
Class V^5\ 

Book_^_ 






p 1 b'S/S? 



POEMS 



MOHAWK YALLET, 



Hum itt iMwiitw, 



TOGETHER WITH AN 



ESSAY ON THE OEIGIN OF POETBY, 



WITH MISCELLANEOUS 



%*im m& MtMu$, 



BY PHINEAS CAMP 

it 



UTICA, N. Y. 

CURTISS & WHITE, PRINTERS, 171 GENESEE ST. 

1859. 






40354 



PREFACE 



Not unadvised, the author "commits the following pages 
of his miscellany to the perusal of the public, seeking their 
moral benefit, while he endeavors to please and interest by 
his verse. Disabled in his later years from steadily pursu- 
ing the interesting duties of his favorite profession, he has 
sought, in this way, to profit such as he could not otherwise 
reach. The press may be made the engine of great and 
unspeakable good ; and highly favored are those that can so 
employ it as to attract and chain the public mind to topics 
calculated to reform, elevate and save their fellow-men 
from all that debases and destroys. Too generally is it 
used as an organ of great and extensive evil. In the pres- 
ent publication, he aims at usefulness rather than fame, 
which latter he is not so vain as to anticipate. This meed 
attaches only to the nobility of the poet race. There are 
few great poets, and not many deservedly popular. The 
number of the useful ones is not small, however. He 
covets something more excellent than empty applause — to 
be a benefactor to his race : to be a means of arresting or 
turning from erroneous courses, to that which insures 
measurable peace here, and immeasurable happiness in the 
world to come. He is aware that his work, artistically 
considered, is vulnerable to criticism. And all wholesome, 
generous criticism he would invite. Some pieces, if not ori- 
ginal in matter, are thought to be hopefully so in manner, 
and embrace topics, many of them novel and untried before. 
Those descriptive of Indian character and customs, are 
taken from persons and scenes familiarized to him, mostly 
by a residence of nearly two years in the Oneida Reser- 



IV PREFACE. 

ration. Many traits of those fast dwindling tribes are 
noble, generous aud heroic, and deserve to be recorded 
and preserved ; while those that are cruel and barbarous 
are the result more of training and traditional custom than 
of inherent ferocity. While we shudder at their savage 
acts, we will not forbear to herald and celebrate their 
noble deeds. We have not among us, in modern times, 
many as disinterested and generous as Logan ; brave and 
warlike as Brant and Tecumseh ; eloquent as Red Jacket ; 
good and eloquent as Skenando — self-sacrificing and heroic 
as Pocahontas and the matron of Oneida. 

The valorous deeds of our patriot forefathers, in their 
struggles for independence, against Savage, British and 
Tory barbarity, the author has endeavored to set forth and 
embellish in his poems: yet concluded, so as to discourage 
the rage and furor of war. Into his grave and serious 
sketches, odes and hymns, and Scriptural paraphrases, he 
has endeavored to infuse a religious element largely ; and 
to tincture all, slightly at least , with the salt and spice of 
Canaan. The few pieces of a lively and playful character, 
mainly products of youth, or that treat of scenes of early 
life, are inserted for variety's sake, to enliven the whole; 
and to lure, innocently, the unserious reader to peruse the 
more solemn and admonitory portions found in the latter 
part of the work. He trusts that the reader will find 
entertainment of a solemn and salutary kind, in the peru- 
sal of those portions, which as to subjects, he deems ori- 
ginal and descriptive of matter, men and scenes in a 
country interesting to us above all others — a place solem- 
nized by the advent, the birth, the partial glorification, 
the death, and the ascension of the Son of God. 

To the survivors and descendants of the Heroes of the 
Mohawk Valley, this work is dedicated by the Author. 

P. C. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

Schenectady, ....... 9 

Poetic Epistle to a Sister, . . . . .80 

The Rose on the Hill, 33 

Poetic Epistle to a Brother-in-Law, . . . * 35 

Battle of Oriskany, . . . . . 38 

Death of Herkimer, ...... 45 

Relic of Oriskany Battle, .... 47 

Skenandoah — The Oneida Chief, . . . .53 

Sabbath at Oneida, 57 

Legend Myth of the Six Nations, . . . .58 

The Indian Wedding, 64 

I. Speech of Skenando, . . . . .67 

II. Speech of Skenando, ..... 68 

Burial of Skenando, ...... 70 

A Modern Pocahontas, . . . . . 71 

The Rural Maid of Mohawk Valley, . . .76 
John Gilpin of the Mohawk Valley, ... 82 
A Night Ride on the Ice of Oneida Lake, . . 88 
A Mother in Israel — Aunt Maria, . . . 91 
To Daniel Berrian, on presenting me with a Brush, . 93 
Death and Burial of a Centenarian, ... 94 
The Valley of Death not Dark, (last words of Char- 
lotte Bradish Wells,) 96 

The Last Tie Broken ; or, the Last of All to his Sister, 98 
Song of a Warbler ; written while traveling as a Mis- 
sionary over Cattskill Mountain, . . 101 
The Frenchman and his Dog — Panther Conflict, . 102. 



VI 



CONTENTS. 



A Bear Hunt on the Mohawk, .... 110 
The Sagacious Hog of the Mohawk, . . . 116 

Mythology of the Iroquois, . . . . .123 

Marriage Ceremony of the Pagans, . . . 125 

Origin of Poetry. An Essay, . . . 12*7 

Poetry Born in Heaven, ..... 136 

The Overthrow of Sodom, 138 

Christ ^t the Grave of Lazarus, . . . 150 

Jacob and Esau, . . . . . .152 

"He hangeth the Earth upon nothing;" . . 155 

"And the Door was Shut," 157 

Greeks seeking Jesus, . . . . . 160 

" Come to the Marriage," . . . . .162 

John in Vision, ...... 164 

Visit of Moses and Elias from Heaven to Earth, . 166 
" Beauty is vain and favor is deceitful," . . 17*7 

Ode to March, ...'... 178 
Our Nation's Glory, . . . . . 179 

To Mrs. H. B. Stowe, 181 

The Chivalric Chief, 182 

Temperance Song, ...... 185 

Temperance Jubilee Song, .... 186 

Temperance Sapphic, . . . . .188 

Welcome to the Lecturer, TV. H. Burleigh, . 190 

The Ox to his Master, 191 

For the Album of Elizabeth Camp, . . . 192 

An Acrostic ; Jerusha Webster and Charity interwoven, 193 
The Ornament of a Meek and Quiet Spirit, . . 194 

A woman that fearcth the Lord, she shall be praised, 195 
Emblem of Heaven, . . . . . 196 

Come to the Concert, . . . . .198 

The Redemption of the Soul is precious, . . 200 

Praise God for a Revival, ..... 201 
Hymn to the Deity of Christ, .... 203 



ERRATA. 

On page 35, for " Poetic Epistle to a Brother," read Po- 
etic Epistle to a Brother-in-Law. 

On page 41, 6th line from top, for " when," read where 

On page 62, 2d line from top, read, ivhite men bring. 

On page 69, 2d line from bottom, for "tell my brothers^ 
read, tell me, brothers. 

On page 107, 13th line from bottom, after " one," insert 
leading. 
. On page 108, 4th line from bottom, for " in," read into. 

On page 109, 1st line, after "Mohawk," for "Wooded 
thickly down to its very brink," read, Valley, wooded to the 
river's brink. 

On page 111, 13th line from bottom, for " fructifverous," 
read fructiverous. 

On page 115, 13th line from bottom, "for "captives," 
read captive. 

On page 130, 8th line from bottom, for " antithesises," 
read antitheses. On page 131, 10th line from top, the 
same error occurs. 

On page 134, 8th line from bottom, for "sentences," 
read sententious. 
On page 150, 10th line from top, for " sparkless," read 



On page 169, 11th line from bottom, for " wrapt," read 
rapt. 

On page 170, 5th line from top, for " spiritually," read 
spiritual. 

On page 171, 1st line, for " clothed," read clothe. 
On page 183, 5th line from bottom, for "rights," read 
right. 



SCHENECTADY: 

ITS SCENERY-ITS BURNING. 



Delivered before tbe Themean Society of Union College, in 1810— at that time pub- 
lished by request. 



Kind auditors — ye fair — ye wise — 
Well pleased, yet diffident I rise, 
With humble aim and honest views, 
To profit whom I would amuse : 
To please the youthful if I may, 
By youthful and my earliest lay. 
The tasteful win, by numbers terse : 
Nor sate nor tire by lengthened verse. 
But rue the freak of modern time 
For rhymesters to declaim their rhyme. 
Soft lays that to the lyre belong, 
111 suit the rough declaimer's tongue. 

I pondered long o'er classic page, 
I faithful traced historic age, 
And traversed city, country, clime, 

For fit material for my rhyme. 
s 



10 SCHENECTADY : 

And asked niy Muse again : — again — 
Dame Fancy courted — racked my brain, 
But brain, nor fancy, muse nor wit, 
"Would name me subject apt or fit : 
"When peering to my wearied eye, 
Uprose good old Schenectady. 
And with it rose slight blush of shame, 
That city, not unknown to Fame, 
"Well praised as virtuous, kind and good, 
From childhood on to womanhood — 
Adorned by architectic skill — 
Environ'd by mountain, slope and hill, 
And graced by sons and daughters fair, 
And learn-ed too beyond compare, 
And famed as seat of Muses long, 
Should go unpraised by poet song. 
But stay, thou wild, erratic Muse — 
Forbear to flatter or abuse 
Her daughters, sons and worthy dames, 
Her sires and men of honored names, 
Have hither come, and kindly hear : 
And naught satiric or severe 
Should lurk, or in my verse appear. 



ITS SCENERY. 11 

Schenectady ! — begin my Mnse — 
Begin ! nor loftiest strains refuse, 
Sing of her beauty, wealth and worth, 
Her infancy and budding forth — 
Her past reverses — recent growth, 
The learn-ed aspect now she show'th. 
— Oft have I climbed the hill -side nigh, 
Or College* steeple towering high, 
And viewed in one expansive show 
Schenectady, and all below ! 
Full wide the darkling city spreads ; 
The buildings roughly lift their heads, 
Like surges of volcanic rock, 
Upthrown by earthquake's mighty shock ; 
Some, sharp and ridgy in their form, 
Bight shaped to rive the pelting storm ; 
Some mansions worn, and old, and frail, 
Hard shiver in the western gale, 
And new ones tower by their side 
In conscious elegance and pride. 
Heavenward the city steeples rise, 
As if to kiss the bending skies : 

* The Old College. 



12 SCHENECTADY : 

One Temple* midst the group appears, 
Marked with the wear of many years, 
And from her height looks gloomy down, 
On hillside, dale, and clamorous town. 
There, frequent with incessant roar, 
Swift whirl the wheels the pavement o'er. 
The eye now bending lowly, meets 
The mazy crowds that walk the streets ; 
Sees scores now taking promenade, 
O'er pebbled walks — in grateful shade. 
And spies, as craving useful knowledge, 
Some fair ones tripping near our College. 
Southward, the aspiring heights uprear, 
And curving, "West and Northward veer ; 
Thence East, to form one beauteous crown, 
Like those which lofty monarchs own. 
But here alone, delightful seen 
By such as might take seat within, 
And mark the golden tint thereon, 
At rising morn or setting sun. 
This glittering show was mine to see : 
And grave on living memory 

* The old Dutch Church— now demolished. 



ITS SCENEKY. 13 

The soul-entrancing scenery. 

See orchards blooming, and beside 

The winding lucid stream to glide 

Innumerous meadows, landscapes gay, 

Eich cultured fields and fallows gray. 

And far adown the plain below 

The plowman turn his furrows slow 

Adjacent where the steeds are grazing, 

Or wildly through the pastures racing. 

While hungry herds young flowers are nipping 

Or lazy 'neath the shade are sleeping. 

Some students 'cross the fields are moving, 

Or distant o'er the hillside roving. 

Eastward, 'mid groves and hillocks green, 

The sportive white-robed nymphs are seen, 

And nearer, cooled by grateful shade, 

Is heard the song of dairy maid : 

Far distant, in yon woody vale, 

'Tis said the lover pours his tale — 

Wild uttering to the listening wind 

The moanings of his wildered mind, 

Of Laura's faithlessness complains, 

In broken sighs — in melting strains. 

A2 



14 SCHENECTADY : 

— "West side, enriched by circling flood, 
Yon islands heave their bosoms broad, 
Where o'er, by cable, floats the scow, 
With freight of steed or dairy cow — 
Of load of golden harvest-yield, 
Jnst reaped and gathered from the field. 
Adjacent, see broad Mohawk pours, 
Through distant hills and winding shores, 
O'er gentle falls and rocky shoals, 
And curving by the city, rolls ; 
While up the stream moves hard and slow, 
The heavy-laden, long batteau, 
And o'er its waveless, glassy tide, 
The nimble skiff is seen to glide. 
North-side, midst bramble, shrub and brake, 
Clear shines a little silver lake,* 
Where angler in his tiny boat, 
With hook and line is seen to float. 
While fenny sides and flags among, 
The blackbird trills his shrilly song, 
And bob-o-lincoln tunes his ditty 
In praise of madam Lincoln pretty ; 

* This lake has latterly disappeared. 



ITS BURNING. 15 

And mingling with their varied notes, 

The bell-voice of the College floats 

O'er city, hill and spreading vale, 

Through woodland walks, and verdant dale, 

Sweet music to the sons of lore, 

Recalled to classic page once more. 

— Such is your city, such the scene, 

But such it has not early been : 

For once it was a desert view, 

And Fancy paints, nor paints untrue — 

The forest shadow on the spot, 

The Indian in his bark-built cot, 

The deer light-bounding through the wood, 

The wolf hoarse howling for her food ; 

The partridge strolling with her brood, 

The panther on his hungry chase, 

The owl, shrill shrieking through the place, 

"Where now upsprings the polished town, 

And all the joys of peace are known. 

Your annals, of an ancient date, 
Dire massacre and ravage state. 
I wot that Pity's listening ear, 
Will patiently my legend hear : 



16 SCHENECTADY ; 

Will well appreciate, treasure well 
The tragic tale my verse shall tell. 
Twice sixty Winter suns ago, 
A Gallic leagued with savage foe, 
Forth issued from Canadian land, 
And crossed by Frontinac's command 
The desert drear. And warring came, 
Not for dominion, nor for fame ; 
Plunder and butchery was their aim, 
Nor sought they as their purposed prey 
Ill-doom'd, unwarned Schenectada ; 
But wandering, and advancing slow, 
(For deep had fallen the cumbering snow,) 
And far by cold and fasting spent, 
Hither their altered course they bent ; 
And skulked, short distance from the town, 
As eve put on her mantle brown, 
And watched, as wolves lurk to devour, 
For Night's drear, stillest, blackest hour. 
Ill-fated town ! Did no one come 
To apprise thee of thy coming doom \ 
Abroad was neither scout nor spy, 
To warn if enemy were nigh ? 



ITS BURNING. 17 

Was there no wakeful sentinel 

To say if aught was ill or well ? 

To fire the appointed signal-gun — 

To speak of skirmishing begun ? 

£Tay, all was still ; nor guard was there, 

ISTor marshalled band to wake for war. 

The watch-dogs in their kennels lay, 

As if unused to watch or bay. 

Nor waked that fowl that saved old Eome, 

From furious Yandals' threatened doom. 

The city lay in sleepy trance, 

Save such as whirled in giddy dance ; 

And gamblers, at their cards and dice, 

Save thieves that nightly ply their trade, 

And burglars, stealthy to invade ; 

Save gluttons, met to gormandize ; 

Low tipplers, self to brutalize ; 

Or some that watched with weary head 

O'er lingering sick man's gloomy bed. 

But hark ! The midnight hour has come, 
Methinks 1 hear low voices grum : 
I note the red men's stealthy stir, 
As creep they forth from oak and fir ; 



18 SCHENECTADY I 

I hear their leader's signal-hiss, 
To call them from the wilderness ; 
I see them come with lighted brands — 
With hatchets glittering in their hands ; 
I catch the well-known savage hum — 
Quick! guardsmen, beat the alarum drum'; 
Bouse ! citizens — your foes — jour foes ! 
Your weapons seize — your gateway close. 
They 're pouring in at the open gate, 
Your homes defend ! Too late — too late ! 
I see no mustering soldiers nigh, — 
All panic-struck — they fly — they fly ! 
The savage has his way and will : 
To sack, to plunder, burn or kill. 
I hear the rumbling falling door — 
I hear the mingled scream and roar — 
I hear the astounding savage yell, 
As if the fiends were waked from hell ! 
I hear the long knives horrid clash 
With wielded sword, 'mid musket flash ! 
I catch the husband's dying groan — 
I hear the matron's piteous moan. 
Again, weak childhood's piercing cry — 



ITS BURNING. 19 

It is the children's turn to die. 

Resistance does the foe no harm, 

And rare, and weak resisting arm. 

See ! from yon burning building springs, 

One to whose breast an infant clings : 

And mark that hideous savage hie, 

Ho pity nestles in his eye ; 

With wolfish fury see him wrest 

The dear one from the mother's breast ! 

He gives — Ah me ! the fatal knock, 

Its blood and brains stream down the rock. 

She pleads for others of her train, 

But for her flock she pleads in vain ; 

Regards he not their piteous cry, 

But one by one he dooms to die. 

She sees them all in slaughter laid ; 

Herself the Indian's captive made. 

— From street to street the murderers pass, 

They spare no age, nor sex, nor class ; 

At every door, on every side, 

Pours copiously the crimson tide :— 

ISTo martial band stands up for fight, 

Each soldier falls, or takes to flight. 



20 SCHENECTADY : 

— £Tow dark the smoky volumes rise, 
Ked flames ascend to illume the skies ; 
Each steepled church — each public hall. 
With manse and cottage prostrate fall ! 
All — all is wasted by the foe, 
A mournful, dismal, painful show. 

But hark ! What means that startling yell ? 
I hear the perpetrators fell, 
Exulting as their victim bleeds : 
Triumphing midst their ruthless deeds ; 
The gory knife, still dripping red, 
Deep gashes round the lifeless head : 
The scalp is from the skull wide-torn, 
And on the wreaking steel-point borne. 
As trophy of their conquest low — 
As laurels for victorious show. 

Hither, now divert your eyes ; 

Rest them on the adjacent plain, 
See the exulting Indian's prize — 

'Tis the remnant of the slain. 

'Tis no captured warrior troop, 
Fathers, mothers, children, they — 



ITS BUKNING. 21 

J Tis a melancholy group ; . 
Made the rueless Indian's prey. 

Shudders now the maiden fair, 
As she treads the biting snow — 

As she feels the wintry air 

On her thin clad frame to blow. 

"Tis a sad and piteous band ; 

Hard they plead for short delay — 
Death is in the driver's hand, 

Fear impels them on their way. 

Doleful thought pervades their mind, 
As like Trajans leaving Troy ; 

Cast they lingering look behind, 
On the scenes of perished joy. 

Now the wilderness they nigh : 
Vanished now all earthly g ? ood — 

Utter they one frantic cry, 

Then are lost in shadowy wood. 

Is there then no* helping hand — 

None to rescue from the foe ? 
c 



22 SCHENECTADY : 

Yes ! Behold yon warrior band. 
Hasting from the town below. 

On that dark, disastrous night, 
When the slumbering city fell, 

Few had thither urged their night — 
Tidings of their friends to tell. 

On, "the youthful heroes speed : 
Nimble as the bounding deer, 

Naught the wilderness they heed ; 
Naught the savages they fear. 

Soon they reach the mazy ground, 
"Where the resting Indian lies, 

Mid his plundered booty round, 
With his sleepless captive prize. 

Quick as thought, they charge — they fight, 
Urged by hate and vengeful ire ; 

Now the forest gleams with light, 

Shakes with thunder, streams with fire. 

See ! The vile barbarian flies — 
'Tis the murderer's turn to bleed ; 



ITS BURNING. 23 

? Tis the Indian now that dies, 
Suffers vengeance for his deeds. 

But that youthful giant band, 

Bravely though they long contend, 

From the flying foeman's hand, 
Cannot rescue every friend. 

Stay they now their vain pursuit ; 

Backward trace their outward course, 
"Wearied vigor to recruit : 

Weakened band to reinforce. 

Hopeless now the remnant prize, 
Borne by savage in his flight ; 

Tortured by him as he flies, 

Beat by day and watched by night. 

Scores by famine end their day ; 

Others by the tomahawk — 
Mothers faint upon 'the way, 

Babes are dashed upon the rock. 

Turn we now and re-survey, 
Hapless town and border scene, 



24 SCHENECTADY : 

View by light of rising day, 
Where marauding foe hath been. 

All is sunk in ashy heap ; 

Smoky clouds o'er-hang the spot, 
"No one comes to wail and weep — 

Weep o'er friends that now are not. 

Lo ! there, to cheer his wife at home, 
A huntsman from his night-chase come, 
To bring to his loved domicil, 
The game he had the luck to kill, 
With wearied frame, yet buoyant heart. 
But see him pause, and gaze, and start ! 
Hear him exclaim, while bounding on, 
The city ! Where ? O where ? All gone 
Those homes ! Oh where— where is my own ? 
With lengthened stride he onward leaps, 
Tow'rd smoking ruins, smouldering heaps : 
"My wife !" Ah, see him o'er the spot, 
Where stood but yesterday his cot ! 
" Oh wife !" now hear him frantic call ; 
" The flames have wrapped,consumed my all !" 
He searches for her sad remains, 



ITS BURNING. 25 

But naught of vestige true regains. 
He starts anew — " And can it be 
The work of savage enemy ?" 
"It is !" Then wildly, loudly cries, 
" She must not be the Indian's prize : 
"I'll seek her, and the robber dies ! 
" Alas ! vain hope ; too late — too late. — 
" I can't resign her to her fate !" 
Then takes the trail, o'er plain and hill, 
Through shaded vale, o'er noisy rill : 
When, lo ! to cheer his frenzied eye, 
Come victor warriors marching nigh, 
To speak her captured in the night, 
And haply rescued in the fight. 
— With hurried step and grateful heart : 
With bolder and more hopeful start, 
He springs to embrace with joyous heart, 
The lost and the reclaimed again ; 
Unlost, unruined, and unslain. 

Alas ! what Muse is adequate 
To sing that city desolate, 
By savage tomahawk and fire : 

C2 



-) SCHENECTADY : 

"What poet suit his sounding lyre, 

To speak the unutterable grief, 

Of such as mourned without relief 

Their absent friends yet unrestored, 

As worse than dead to be deplored ? 

— Associate with survivors few, 

Soon gather cultivators new, 

And rear, as time takes rapid night, 

New mansions on the ashy site. 

And soon, o'er slope and spacious plain 

Appears Schenectady again : — 

And fairer too, as we have seen ; 

More thrifty, nourishing and sheen. 

— Brave were your sires, and wise, and good, 

As muse and bard have understood ; 

And when proud Britain sent her fleet, 

To bow us suppliant at her feet ; 

When army after army came, 

To waste with cannon, sword and flame, 

Your sons were not the last to show 

^Resistance to the boasting foe. 

Full many a sire obeyed the call, 

To jeopard life, possession, all: 



ITS BURNING. 27 

And many a mother, many a wife, 
Lost son and husband in the strife ; 
Many a maiden wept again, 
Her lover in the battle slain : 
On shore and river, lake and sea, 
Your soldiers battled with the free. 

—And when proud Britain dropped the war, 
And yielded what we struggled for, 
Your fathers were not slow to raise 
Tribute of gratitude and praise 
To Him, who crowned the costly strife, 
With freedom and a happier life. 
Such, citizens, your fame whilom ; 
Such is your city and your home. 
Success rewards your honest toil, 
Rich plenty crowns your generous soil : 
Religion spreads her genial wing 
O'er old and young, and every thing ; — 
True science shines, instructs, refines : 
Here virtuous beauty smiles and shines — 
And on the city, people, all, 
Celestial blessings daily fall. 



SCHENECTADY I 



I close. May richest gifts of Heaven 
To you and yours be ever given. 



ADDENDA. 

The Muse resumes the theme of youthful day, 
A grateful tribute to the wise to pay, 
Would speak the known munificence of him 
Whose aim in early and in later time 
Was bent yon row of edifice to raise ; 
The city's ornament — the builder's praise : — 
From whom the author in his first es-say, 
Received suggestions helpful to his lay ; 
Who but for him who bade him tune his lyre, 
Had haply failed hi numbers to aspire — 
Who helped to trim his Muse's wayward wing, 
And praised the verse he bade him early sing ; 
Still longer may that honored sire be spared, 
In Whose fair fame Schenectady has shared. 

How changed its scenes, by commerce and by art! 
To please the eye, and benefit the heart. 
Where noble Mohawk's grateful waters flow 
Ascends no more the fingering, long batteau. 
In less romantic, less poetic way, 



ADDENDA. 29 

In this more wise — this more inventive day, 
By gentler, speedier, smoother water-way 
Has Art provided, commerce to convey. 
Where once slow rolled the heavy laden wain, 
Now swiftly glides the fiery lightning train ! 

Yet Mourns the bard, at half centennial, 
Compelled sad change, and painful to recall : 
To note the havoc death and time have made, 
His class alumni numbered with the dead. 



30 



POETIC EPISTLE TO A SISTER. 

Sistee Anna : 

See another 

Letter from your poet brother, 

"Who complains of want of time, 

Yet can 'ford to write in rhyme, 

Merely (for 'tis twice the trouble,) 

To attain at something noble. 

Or to please a whim of his : 

Or because 'twould flatter Sis. 

Tour kind letter late received, 

Brought me pleasure, and retrieved 

Partly, your declining credit. 

For I thought, and likely said 

Kindred friends had all forgot 

Whether I still lived, or not ; 

And sufficient cause I had 

For complaint, and being sad. 

Letters from the friends I love 

Never-failing solace prove, 

To my oft dejected mind, 



POETIC EPISTLE TO A SISTER. 31 

And are testimonials kind — 
Pledges of the love of friends. 
And they make me faint amends 
Eor their absence ; and privation 
Of their smiles and conversation. 
Judge, then Sister, the effect 
Your long silence, nay neglect^ 
Had upon your brother's heart ! 
And was yours a friendly part 
Thus with other friends to slight 
And forget your brother quite ? 
But, no more. I'll pardon all, 
And now hasten, (lest I pall 
By my rough insipid verse,) 
Thro' my letter, and converse 
(And I hope in softer strain,) 
On my home-return again. 
Think they'll all, this time, be glad, 
Home, to see the College-lad ? 
"Will all Deerrield dance for joy 
'G-ain to see the College-boy ? 
"Will the clever beaux and lasses 
Welcome me with smiling faces 



32 POETIC EPISTLE TO A SISTER. 

Home, to join, (where joys abound,) 
In their festive social round ? 
Will old maids and boys to greet me 
Barefoot scamper out, and meet me ? 
Nay, but think you ? tell me plain, 
Am I wished for home again ? 
Could I one new pleasure bring 
To your dear domestic ring ? 
Or your troubles dissipate ? 
Or your sorrows palliate ? 
If my presence could restore 
Any comforts, or add more, 
Then 'twere reasonable to wish it 
That I pay you one more visit. 
Well ! — to save us altercation, 
I will spend the next vacation 
(If the winds blow fair, and cash come, 
For we students always dash some 
On our passage home from College,) 
At the cradle of my knowledge : 
Deerfield town and Whites-boro', 
Washed by Mohawk's overflow. 
Yours, affec't, 

Union Collbge, Nov. 25th, 1810. -t • C. 



S3 



THE ROSE ON THE HILL. 

Young Chorydon wandered one morn in a vale 
With the beauties of nature bespread : 

When a rose on the hill, as it waved in the gale, 
Seemed to beckon the youth with its head. 

So he ventured to climb to the ai-ry height, 
Where the blossom expanded so fair ; 

~No flower upon earth so enraptured his sight, — 
So shed its perfume on the air. 

He watched the fit season to capture the flower, 

And make it exclusively his. 
Consent was obtained, and most happy the hour, 

That proffered superlative bliss. 

Not long was his stay on the gaily decked hill, 
When his spirits showed symptoms of blight ; 

The winds on the summit were ruffling and chill, 
And dizzening its towering height. 

So he raised the sweet shrub from its cherishing 
soil, 
And planted it low in the vale ; 



34 THE ROSE ON THE HELL. 

And he gave it while there, both his care and his 
toil, 
To render it blitheful and hale. 

But spite of his love and of his delicate care, 

It faded, grew drooping, and ill : 
Then Chorydon grieved the bright rose he could 
tear, 

From its own native soil on the hill. 

Thus choosing a blossom to smile on my life, 

Nor mutual sorrow entail — 
Let me take not the rose of high rank for a wife, 

But the lily that grows in the vale. 



35 



POETIC EPISTLE TO A BROTHER. ^ le~ 

Some weeks, I trow, have trundled on, 
Since when I wrote thee, brother John : 
This eve entranced in idle mood, 
Tho' long time since the Muse I've wooed ; 
Thought struck me, that I'd feel my lyre, 
And find if all was yet entire. 
Tho' rust had made a breach or two, 
'Tis sure as poets' words are true, 
I'd scarce begun its powers to try, 
When Pegasus came scampering by : 
But mount I would not, — for 'twas better, 
Thought I, to freight him with a letter ; 
Accept it, and since you're a sharer 
In this famed steed, treat well the bearer. 

In truth, I know not what to write ; 
My Muse don't treat me well to-night, 
And treats me very justly too — 
I'd nearly bid the maid adieu. 

My health is, more than usual, good ; 



36 POETIC EPISTLE TO A BROTHER. 

Affairs much so as late they stood. 
While sitting now beside my fire, 
Tho' far from friends, and lone entire, 
I've happiness in greater measure 
Than sons of business and of pleasure, 
Who ceaseless toil and gaily jostle, 
Through empty joys, and noisy bustle. 
E'en now, while raves the storm without, 
Cold whistling round our mansion stout, 
How gently sweet the soul's emotions — 
Quite safe from harm, from dire commotions ! 
E'en like a vessel's gentle roll, 
Far moored from Ocean's dread control. 
Tho' strays my mind, (unbent and free,) 
To scenes of human misery — 
To sick man's views, just o'er his grave ; 
The sailor, struggling midst the wave ; 
The soldier, shivering 'neath his tent, 
With toil, disease, and hardship spent : 
Or weltering on the battle ground, 
Mid thousands groaning, dying round. 
Thus busied, tho' I'm prone to grieve 
At other's woes, and can't relieve ; 



POETIC EPISTLE TO A BROTHER. 37 

Still it is partial happiness 

To sympathize in man's distress ; 

Yet joy arises from the thought, 

That Heaven has given me happier lot — 

A home, health, safety, friends, content, 

And heart on peace and science bent. 

" One thing," mayhap my friend replies, 

" To make this world a Pardise, 

" Thou lackest yet : A consort kind ; 

" Of taste domestic, soul refined, 

" With babes — say one, or two, or three — 

" Sweet prattling round the parent's knee." 

You're right, perhaps. And I've a wife, 
My book : — who leads a lonely life, 
And children (Academic) too, . 
Who claim attention all day through. 

My Muse is dull, and tired outright, 
So, brother John, good night, — good night. 

P. 0. 

Montgomery, Dec. 5th, 1812. 



D2 



38 



BATTLE OF OEISKANY. 

From the land o'er the rivers and lakes of the north, 
The Briton and Tory and Savage came forth ; 
And swarmed in the forest begirting the fort, 
Ere the few at Old Stanwix had timely report. 
St. Ledger, with Johnson and Brant in intrigue, 
(Oppressor, deserter and savage in league,) 
Forth-summoned the feeble to yield the command, 
Or slaughter incur from the murderous band. 
But Gansevoort answered, the threat and the 

vaunt, 
" To Ledger and Johnson and Butler and Brant 
" I yield not, nor tamely surrender the post : 
" We trust not the mercy of a merciless host — 
" Appointed by patriots to garrison here, 
" We firmly defend, though defence maybe dear." 
— Far down on the river o'er flat and o'er hill, 
The dwellers were toiling securely and still, 
When the voice of a runner who cried as lie ran, 
Brake shrill on the ear of a gallant old man. 
" The spoilers have come to lay waste and assail — 



BATTLE OF ORISKANY. 39 

" Wake ! dwellers on Mohawk, on hill side and 

vale. 
" Up ! Rescue our men in the fortress beset, 
" From the grasp of the foe and their merciless 

threat." 
Quick Herkimer sped from his plough in the soil, 
To marshal the yoemanry fresh from their toil. 
And they march for Old Stanwix through the 

wilderness drear, 
Unchecked by the danger, unshaken by fear. 
But they pause to hold council at Oriskany's 

Bend, 
"Where the rash with their wary commander 

contend ; 
Who counseled precaution — a scout in advance, 
To wait reinforcement to favor the chance ; 
And march when the cannon's concerted report, 
Announces a sortie of the brave at the fort. 
— But branded as coward, he, mounting his 

steed — 
" March onward," exclaimed, " I am ready to 

lead !" 
When a shout of approval — as he gave the 

command, — 



40 BATTLE OF ORISKANY. 

Brake forth from the lips of the confident band. 
— So they hasten, tumultuous, the forest to 

thread, 
Through pathway ill-beaten, by wayfarer's tread. 
And they venture in cautious, where the ambush 

is laid — 
"Where hemlock and cedar stand thick to o'er- 

shade. 
— Ah! Why all unheeding did they pass the 

ravine, 
Where Brant and his warriors lay waiting 

unseen ? — 
Ha ! List to that war-whoop and the rifles' sharp 

rattle ; 
They spring from their hiding to the merciless 

battle. 
They throng the rough causeway that spans the 

morass, 
Ere the rear-guard dissevered have entered the 



Who, routed and broken, are driven amain, 
While the van-guard, unaided, the conflict 

maintain. 
And thickly they fall, by the tree-hidden foe — 



BATTLE OF OEISKANY. 41 

By the scalper's keen knife and the tomahawk's 

blow. 
They break — but they rally at Herkimer's call, 
And now the wild marksmen are marks for the 

ball. 
As they haste with the hatchet, when the bullet 

has sped, 
They feel the swift missile awaiting their tread ; 
And the blood of the red man bespatters the 

tree, 
Where sideway he peereth, the pale-face to see. 
— How vivid the forest with the iterant flash ! 
How fearful the bayonet and tomahawk clash ! 
How deaf 'ning the war-shout and odious yell ! 
Like voices of demons awaked from their hell ! 
How astounding the tumult as they struggle 

pell-mell ! 
Yet fiercer the fight, as a Royalist chief, 
Upleads the known Tories to the Indian's relief. 
When patriot, and traitor, engrapple for life, 
And vengeful and hated, both*die in the strife : 
Each combatant's blade in his combatant's side, 
The blood of old neighbors commingle in tide. 



42 BATTLE OF ORISKANY. 

— Loud Herkimer speaks, as the battle-storm 

pours — 
"Fight on, my brave fellows, the victory is 

ours :" 
When prone, with his charger, sore wounded he 

falls ; 
Yet nought the old Hero the disaster appals, — 
Nor paled by the dead with their visages grim — 
Nor blenched by the blood and the pang of his 

limb; 
Erect on his saddle, from fallen steed torn, 
He holds the vile tory and savage in scorn ; 
Still orders his comrades, as they compass him 

round, — 
Who falter nor yield to the foemen the ground ; 
Though thinned in their ranks yet dauntless fight 

on: 
— When the voice of a storm from the Terrible 

One, 
Faint heard at a distance, deep thundereth now, 
And pours — as if ired by the carnage below, — 
Its measureless torrents, well tending to stay 
The slaughter and rage of the maddening fray. 
Incessant with the lightnings flash, 



BATTLE OF ORISKANY. 43 

Is heard the deafening forest crash, 

Of elm and hemlock earthward bent ; 

Of firs uprooted, cedars rent — 

Is seen the cumulating flood, 

Deep stained with gore and gurgling blood ; 

And thirsty — midst the lifeless slain, 

The wounded drinks the falling rain. 

No whoop, nor yell, is uttered now ; 

No voice, but voice of Torn-ado. 

All still the clash and noisy rush, 

Save dying groans, all, all, is hush ; 

Jehovah speaketh from the sky — 

His fiery chariot passeth by, 

As if to assume superior sway, 

And quell the wrath, and. quash the fray. 

— And sure the combatants will fear, 

And end the direful carnage here — 

— The armistice by Heaven compelled, 

And for an hour reluctant held — 

Is broken by the rifle rattle ; 

The foe renews suspended battle. 

Nor rain of Heaven can cool the wrath, 

The patriot toward the tory hath. 

Nor aught availeth to abate, 



4:4: . BATTLE OF ORISKANY. 

The tory grudge, or savage hate. 

And terrible the struggle now ; 

'Tis dirk to knife — 'tis blow for blow, — 

The red man swift the hatchet flings, 

The patriot, broad his musket swings, 

And earthward his opponent brings. 

Here arms in arms, they mutual clasp — 

There stretch their hand the throat to grasp, 

And throttling, each falls down to die, — 

And both, transfixed together lie. 

But hark to that roar of the far signal-fire, 

It comes to divert from the sacrifice dire. 

The allies from war-note, at Stanwix afar, 

Resolve on retreat to their comrades at war — 

Withdraw from the battle-field strewn with their 

slaw, 
Their wounded and dying, with their dead to 

remain ; 
And their way through the wilderness hasty 

retrace, 
The scalp, their vile trophy, defeat their disgrace. 
Their hosts at the seige are appalled by the blow, 
And Stanwix yields not at the threat of the foe. 
— ThenceWillet had sallied with a few of the brave, 



DEATH OF HERKIMER. 45 

Repaid on St. Ledger the threatenings he gave ; 
Defeated his forces and captured his store ; 
Secure to the fortress his equipage bore, 
And high, to the vanquished, abashed and 

dismayed, — 
His flags on the rampart triumphant displayed. 
— His proud co-invader, the boasting Burgoyne, 
Despairing their forces and power to conjoin, 
Succumbs to the rebels he vowed to distress, 
And bows to the nation he sought to oppress. 
— Thus, sure upon tyrants, Jehovah fulfills 
The threatnings He utters, the judgments He 

wills. 



DEATH OF HERKIMER. 

But Herkimer, borne to his sorrowing home, 
Lies calm, with his Bible before him — 

Unmoved by the tokens fortelling his doom, 
Or the moans of friends that deplore him. 

The watchers are hushed as he utters his prayer, 
The mourners are noiselessly sighing ; 

No thundering war-note is muttering there, 
"Where the Christian hero lies dying. 

E 



46 BATTLE OF ORISKANY. 

A psalm, addressed to his Maker on high, 

Indited by Judah's sweet singer, 
Engages his languid, but reverent eye, 

And is traced by his trembling finger. 

He faintly commands, as the strife of the field 

Reinvades his delirious vision : 
" To traitors nor tory the victory yield, 

" But hold them in scorn and derision." 

Oriskany's vale, with its wood-land of gore, 

Still echo's the patriot's story ; 
But Herkimer slumbers, to battle no more 

For his country's weal and her glory. 

ISTo proud mausoleum now crowneth the grave 

Of the soldier and patriot hoary, 
But the head of that Christian and warrior brave, 

Is adorned with a halo of glory. 

And long let the name of the patriot true, 
The tales of the Mohawk enliven ; 

But ne'er let the Valley the strife to renew — 
To bloody resistance be driven. 

Oh, sad was the cause of that wasting of life : 
The need of our painful secession, — 



RELIC OF OKISKANY BATTLE. 



47 



'Twas Britian that kindled the terrible strife, 
By enactments of haughty oppression. 

O, hasten the era of peace and of love. 

Foretold in prophetical vision ; 
When men in accord with a Saviour above, 

Shall banish all war-like collision. 



RELIC OF ORISKANY BATTLE. 

A gun, found on the Battle Field, after a 
repose of 81 years, comprising barrel, ramrod, 
lock and flint, in remarkable preservation, has 
suggested the following poem. 

A late occupant had been clearing away the 
remains of an old tree-top, when a dairy cow, 
in passing, moved a stone, which, bounding and 
hitting the barrel, brought a sound, or voice 
from the relic, asking for deliverance from its 
long and tedious privacy, to tell its painful story, 
in answer to the questions of its finder : 

Relic of heroic age — 

Rouse thee from thy dusty bed. 
Thou hast seen the battle rage, 

Tell us of the noble dead. 



48 RELIC OF ORISKANY BATTLE. 

Wont to slay the deer — the bear ; 

Drop the squirrel from the tree, — 
Thou art found embedded, where 

Fell the sons of liberty. 

Blood of bird and beast to spill, 

Was it not thy destiny ? 
Why aspire to hunt and kill 

Heirs of immortality ? 

" Heirs of those who nobly fell, 

" Waging Freedom's warfare dire ; 
" Raised from earth, I gladly tell, 
" Why my thoughts could thus aspire. 

" Early, as marauding bands, 

" Roused to war the yeomanry — 

" Arms they seized, with sudden hands, 
" Leaving house and husbandry. 

'• When the tocsin spread alarms, 

" Far o'er Mohawk's lengthened plain, 

" Calling men 'to arms ! to arms ! !' 
" Foes to meet and drive amain," 

When the brave in fortress pent, 
For their brothers' aid appealed, 



RELIC OF ORISKA^Y BATTLE. 49 

I was for that bold intent, 
Hurried from the rural field. 

Formed, anon the army pushed, 
Swiftly through the alluvial vale — 

Hastily and wild they rushed, 
Wily foeman to assail. 

Prudent counsel, — nought they took — 
Herkimer, their leader, gave ; 

Short delay they could not brook : 
Him, they branded as unbrave. 

" I saw the old Hero to his saddle-seat spring ; 

"The fire of his eye-glance was vividly bright. 
" I heard the harsh drum and the trumpet's shrill 
ring, 
" As he uttered, ' march on ! I am firm for the 
fight.' 

" Pure white was his steed, and he fearlessly led 

" Their way through the forest to the snare of 

the foe ; 

" A mark for the rifle ? with its missile of dread, 

" Fore-destined the rider and steed to o'er. 

throw. 

E2 



50 RELIC OF OKISKANY BATTLE. 

u I saw, as the storm of the battle begun, 
" The horse and his master performing their 
round ; 
" I heard the report of the death-bearing gun, 
"That felled them alike and at once to the 
ground. 

" When Cox, at the head of his regiment fell, 
"I saw him and Hunt falling down with the 
dead : 
u And Gardenier, with desperate courage repel, 
" And merge whom he slew, in the blood he 
had shed. 

"I marked the red chieftains fell thick in the 
fight, 
"Thus moving their sachem to counsel retreat > 
" A war-note from Stanwix gives speed to their 
flight, 
u And their wounded abandoned bespeak their 
defeat. 

" — From the hands of a soldier, who sank in the 
fray, 
" I fell down all heated and gory ; 



BELIC OF OEISKANY BATTLE. 51 

"From the dust, in my rust, ye have raised me 
to-day, 
" To speak of the dead in my story. 

44 I've seen the wild forest-path choked with the 
slain, 

44 The streamlet with red current pouring : 
" I've heard from survivors, their wailings of pain, 

" Dead fathers and husbands deploring. 

" The eagle and raven came down on the dead ? 

" As I lay on my blood-sprinkled bedding ; 
" At night, the gaunt wolves on their carcasses fed, 

u No comrades or kindred forbidding. 

44 All dreary and life-long, has been my repose, 
44 Midst the bones and the relics around me ; 

41 I've marvelled, while seen by the elks and the 
roes, 
u No friend of the fallen had found me. 

44 The woodman hath felled all the musical trees, 
" That whispered their condolence to me ; ■ 

44 The rumble and scream of the cars on the 
breeze, 
44 For years have passed over and through me. 



52 RELIC OF ORISKANY BATTLE. 

" The plowman hath plodded a team-length from 
me, 
" Through spring, summer, fall, in succession, 
" But turned not his head, nor an eye-glance to 
see, 
" To learn and relieve my condition. 

" Quite sick of blood and of murderous strife, 
" And time-worn and rusty and eaten, 

" I fain would return to my primitive life, 
" Or be to a pruning-hook beaten." 

Recovered memento of patriot strife, 

We cherish thy honored remains ; 
Thou'lt rob no more the brutes of their life, 

Nor rust again on the plains. 

Too deeply eaten for a pruning-hook, . 

To trim the exuberant tree ; 
We'll hold thee as a memorial book, 

Or a keep-sake of the free. 

From the sight of garments deep rolled in blood, 
And the noise of the warrior strife, 

We turn us to welcome a higher good, 
In the deeds of a peaceful life. 






53 



SKEMDOAH, 

THE ONEIDA CHIEF. 

From the camp of the pale-faced the chieftains 

have come, 
To muster no more at the beat of the drum. 
Their pipes, the white monarchs* have smoked 

^nto peace, 
And the strife of the battle is bidden to cease. 
The patriot soldier unscathed by the war, 
Has sought his loved farm, and his household 

afar ; 
And the war-horse dismissed from his onerous 

toil, 
Exchanges the death-car for the plow in the soil. 
But slowly, and sadly, the furrows they turn — 
The husband and matron are destined to mourn i 
The Demon of war-strife, in pitiless rage, 
Has torn from their circle the prop of their age. 
The virgins have ceased to rejoice in the dance ; 
The pastor is weeping in his hospitable manse, 
For absent parisioners missed from his flock : 

* Monarchs of England and France after the French War. 



54 SKENANDOAH, 

Who perished by hardship, or fell in the shock. 
Nor griefless the red-men returned to their tribe, 
Too numerous their sorrows for muse to describe ; 
In forest, on hill-side, uncounted the graves, 
The war of the white-men has dug for the braves* 
Full many a wigwam is tenantless now : 
The builder is fallen by the sword of the foe. 
The dark eye of maiden now gushes with grief; 
She mourns for the lost one — the son of a chief. 
And the father all prone hi the dust of his hut, 
Bewails his dead son and is comforted not. 

Who cares for the Indian, so savage and low ? 
But his soul is not senseless to joy, or to woe. 
His heart, though in warfare is tempered to steel, 
Can melt in retirement, — in secret can feel. 

But the tide-wave of grief lias now timely gone 

by; 
The Sachem's grieved bosom less swells with the 

sigh ; 
The tear on the cheek of the maiden is dry ; 
The war-whoop has ceased, and the sorrowful 

wail, 
But a whoop for a council is heard in the vale. 



THE ONEIDA CHIEF. 55 

The whites have remembered the red-man's estate: 
Have sent an Apostle, (why send him so late ?) 
To publish a rescue from the pitiless foe : 
Redemption from sin, and the prison of woe. 
The Sachem has welcomed — his runners are sent 
To gather the chieftains — to gain their consent : 
The sons of the forest are all on the move ; 
And speed to convene at the Butternut grove. 
Assembled : The chieftain with patriarch grace, 
Assumes his high seat in the concillers' place ; 
Their eyes on the white-man distrustfully glance, 
But Skenando beckons the stranger's advance. 
'Tis Kirkland, the friend of the red-man adduced, 
The red-man defrauded, corrupted, seduced ; 
Who thus, to the Sachem and council began : — 
" Deep moved by the Spirit — commissioned by 

man, 
" Oneidas, I come as a brother, not foe, 
"The faith of a Christian to bring and to show; 
"To urge on your nation a saving belief; 
" Soft peace to your conscience — a balm for your 

grief; 
" To preach, through repentance and a change of 

your ways, 



56 SKENANDOAH, 

" Eternal redemption by pardoning grace. 

" I come to instruct you — perchance to abide — 

" To stay, or depart, as your voice stall decide." 

He spake, and scarce a pause ensued, 

When fierce amid the council stood 

A savage form of stature high — 

And gave the speaker brief reply : 

" Your words fall smooth on Indian's ear ; 

" You wear the coat of harmless deer ; 

" But red-man spies a wolf beneath, — 

" Can see him move, and hear him breathe : 

" "Who conies to stay and eat our food ; 

" To steal our venison, suck our blood : 

" You bring Good Spirit ? Yah-ta-on-le !■ 

" Bah, bah, you whites. Stand off — begone ye." 

He spake, and through his savage clan 

Responsive murmur gruffly ran ; 

Whom, gravely answered Skenando : 

" My heart thinks not to counsel so ; — 

" For whites, you grasped the tomahawk — 

u Accept their teacher — hear his talk. 

" Our war-whoop, long, has ceased to sound ; 

" We've sunk the hatchet in the ground. 

" To them our wampum belt is given, — 



SABBATH AT ONEIDA. 57 

" We'll talk of peace, and think of heaven. 

" Let white-man find a wigwam here, 

" And smoke our pipe, and eat our deer." 

He sat. When through the council went, 

A louder murmur — of assent. 

Kirkland is hailed by Indian host, 

As teacher of the savage lost ; 

To point and guide him in the way, 

That leads to realms of endless day. 



SABBATH AT ONEIDA. 

The week came round and brought the Sabbath 

day; 
A law which Kirkland taught them to obey ; 
And had the notice sent, and many came 
To see — to hear the messenger proclaim 
The Christian scheme. The teacher oped the 

Word, 
And preached the Gospel of the risen Lord. 
Spoke of the Creation, and of Adam's Fall ; 

And by him sin and death entailed on all ; 

p 



58 skf;nandoah. 

Of earth despoiled by desolating flood, 
And remnant saved by clemency of God ; 
Of a Redeemer, sent to preach and die — 
To save the lost from sin and misery. 
Of Heaven he spake, and of a fearful Hell ; 
Of those assigned hi either place to dwell. 
— And as he ardent on the topics dwelt, 
Few listened well, and fewer deeply felt. 
He paused, and prayed : when suddenly arose 
A pagan chief, to cavil and oppose — 
And gave in brief, their legendary myth, 
And his opinions intermixed therewith. 



LEGEND MYTH OF THE SIX NATIONS.* 

Time was when this surrounding space — 
Where earth has now his dwelling place — 
Was all a dark and liquid mass, 
Where man was never known to pass. 
When all of souls that ever were, 
Dwelt in a world in upper air. 
Where countless beasts of every name — 

* See Note I. at the end of Poems of Mohawk Valley,— Mythol- 
ogy of the Iroquois or Six Nations. 



LEGEND MYTH. 59 

To please the eye and furnish game — 
Pervaded mountain, hill and dale ; 
Each verdant plain, and woody vale. 
Where brook and river, sea and lake, 
Were stocked with fish for man to take. 
Where trees and plants spontaneous grew, 
And flowers of every form and hue, 
And fruits, the taste to gratify, 
And grains, a rich and full supply. 
The tranquil air, was fanned and stirred 
By every wing-ed fowl and bird. 
No threatening cloud, nor driving storm 
Came down to frighten or deform. 
No fell disease, nor death, nor woe 
Invaded there, as here below. 
Nor feuds, nor war, nor fierce debate, 
Nor envy, malice, wrath nor hate 
E'er rose to mar the perfect peace 
In that pure world of righteousness. 
Unnumbered years thus onward rolled — 
A wife presumptuous and bold, 
Despised and broke the marriage law — 
When all combined to adjudge the squaw — 
And hurled her, from the world of bliss 



60 SKENANDOAH. 

Deep down into the dark abyss. 

And she, upon a turtle's back — 

That followed on her downward track — 

Founded and built this present earth, 

And peopled it, by giving birth 

To two, whence sprang the human race — 

To whom all sin and woe we trace : 

Which race she tries, each mode and measure, 

To vex and ruin at her pleasure. 

And anciently, upraised a flood 

To drown her own rebellious brood. 

And would, — had not a remnant fled, 

And found on mountain's loftiest head 

A refuge, where the deluge crest 

Had failed in effort to invest ; 

And some that took to. their canoe, 

And lived the flood and tempest through. 

And now by land and ocean's quake, 

She hopes, a total end to make 

Of all that live. And we can show 

A chasm she made an age ago ; 

Whence outward fled in consternation, 

The fathers of our noble nation, 

Whom Mannito, — the Spirit Power — 



LEGEND MYTH. 61 

Protects, and shall, forever more. 

So nought we prize your Bible talk ; 

We have our rule by which we walk. 

We need no Prince to die for us — 

To cleanse our sin, to bear our curse : 

We have reliable tradition ; 

We prize our usage and condition. 

Wherefore we more than hesitate, 

To adopt the faith you preachers' state. 

In proud conceit he sat him down, 

And seemed to feel the victory won. 

A savage umph, or two, was heard, 

But much the Word the sachem prized, 

Him cherished, and upheld his hand 

As teacher in Oneida Land. 

A brighter sun thus gilds Oneida's vale, 

Nor gilds in vain. Nor does the gospel fail 

To tame the savage, renovate the soul : 

To cheer the forest, luminate the whole. 

Meantime glad rumors reach the Sachem's ear. 

A whoop announces messengers of cheer. 

White men approach,and bring in costume strange 

A red man freed by rule of war's exchange : 

From Gallic land a captive brave returned, 

F2 



62 SKENiLNDOAH. 

As dead, and lost believed, and sorely mourned. 
'Tis he, the Sachem's son, the white man brings, 
To embrace him, see, the unknown stranger 

springs. 
" 'Tis I," he cries, "long lost, but found again, 
" Reported dead but rescued from the slain." 
See, by his side the espoused maiden stand, 
To know her chief restored from spirit land. 
" And is it he, or has his spirit come 
" To take me too to dwell in happier home ? 
" On hunting ground where roam the elk, the 

deer 
" In countless herds, nor cruel want nor fear 
" Invade the Indian's peaceful wigwam more, 
" JsTor white man drive us far to western shore." 
When turned they all to seek the rural spot 
Where stood the Sachem's rude and humble cot, 
When after meal and suitable repose 
The chief and maid their mutual love disclose. 

She said that day you fought and fell, 
(As Indian runner came to tell,) 
I seemed to faint, or fall asleep, 
And saw you come with whoop and leap 
And take me by my willing hand, 



LEGEND MYTH. 6& 

And bear me to a better land, 
Where all was bright and mild and fair, 
Where breezes sweet perfumed the air, 
Where death nor sickness e'er pervade, 
Nor strifes nor revels low invade ; 
Where hunting grounds securely stand, 
Nor white man seizes Indian land, 
Nor lures us off to countries far 
To wage with him disastrous war. 
Where Indians from espous-ed squaw 
Are never tempted to withdraw 
By fiery drink, our people's bane, 
The white man brings to swell his gain. — 
All blissful did that people seem — 
Tell me my warrior, was't a dream ? 
Ne-ah, — You dreamed of what is true : 
You see I've come to walk with you 
Through hunting grounds in forests'near, 
Where sport the bear, the elk the deer. 
I vow to go no more afar 
To help the white man wage his war, 
And I will take you for my squaw, 
Nor heed temptation to withdraw. 
Our tribe shall aid the preacher wise 



64 SKENANDOAH. 

To make our land a paradise, 
To expel the fiery water drink,* 
Nor more of revels talk or think. 
Thus sweetly talked tiiis happy pair,. 
Of future prospects bright and fair — 
Few winged months pass speedy on, 
When they are destined to be one. 
And pleasant now the Muse's part 
To sketch by her appropriate art 
The rites and nuptial pageantry, 
As taught in ancient legend'ry. 



THE WEDDING CEREMONY.f 

'Twas at a time when floral May, 
Arrayed her in her mantle gay, 
Came forth the sylvan groom and bride : 
A mother's love, a father's pride. — 
And tripped they onward smilingly, 
Each decked in native finery. 

*Skenandoah having been enticed aud made drunk on a visit to 
Albany resolved, and kept bis resolve, to driuk thereafter no more 
firewater. 

r See Note II. at the end of Toems of Mohawk Valley. 



THE WEDDING CEREMONY. 65 

As chief, lie wore the warrior's dress, 
With silver jewels in excess, 
And turban crowned with feathers gay 
From owl and eagle, hawk and jay ; 
With coat of cloth of glossy jet, 
And moccasins with wampum set. 
The maid, with braided hair appears, 
With jeweled nose and jeweled ears, 
With wampum-beaded moccasins 
Of leather dressed of reindeer skins ; 
With dress of fashionable blue, 
And pantaletts of kindred hue. 
And jollily and hand in hand 
They reach the grove and wedding stand, 
Where comes the Sachem Skenando 
With native pride and Indian show, 
The happy couple to unite, 
(For Sachems then performed the rite, 
Accordant with the ancient fashion, 
Unlike the modes of Christian nation,) 
And points them to a station near 
O'erspread with robes of bear and deer. 
Young warriors follow in their train, 
Bedecked with gems and tinsel vain, 



66 SKENAISTDOAH. 

When back to back the parties sit, 

A mode their fashion deemed most fit. 

" Warrior," he says, " you've chosen your mate y 

" You vow her tenderly to treat, 

" For her the wigwam store with care, 

" With meat of elk, and deer, and bear. 

" Before the braves assembled now, 

" You take the sacred marriage vow, 

" Which should you dare to violate 

" The tomahawk shall be your fate. 

" — And woman, who have chosen too, 

" This warrior for a guide to you, 

" Do you avow and give consent 

" To be his squaw with full content. 

" To him be faithful, kind and true, 

" And keep his wigwam sacred too ; 

" But if you once should deviate 

" The tomahawk must be your fate." 

To this, as gave they their assent, 

Responsive murmur widely went 

From lip to lip of warrior band, 

And all that hovered round the stand. 

When as the groom his wedded kissed, 

The Sachem bade the show dismissed. 






HIS SPEECHES. 

And peaceful, orderly and still, 
Each Sachem sought his domicile ; 
For early in their history, 
Few came to offer wilily 
The madening alcoholic fire, 
To savage nations' ruin dire. 



67 



SKESTANDO'S SPEECH, 

When grieved at the sale of the Oneida Castle Ground 
by the inveigled Chiefs, in 1815. 

On the occasion of the announcement of the 
last sale of the Oneida lands, including the 
Castle — at which he was grieved, with many of 
his people — he gathered them together, and ris- 
ing, said: — 

" This is a sad day for Oneida. Our eyes rain 
like the showers that roar in the tops of the 
trees of the wilderness. Our lands are sold. 
Where now are the children of the Rising Sun ? 
White men now kindle fires upon their graves. 
Children — sign no more papers. Papers are 
wicked things. Go to our missionary, ask him. 
He is straight." 



68 SKENANDOAH. 

Sad day is this, for loved Oneida's weal — 
Sad day for all who have a heart to feel. 
Our eyes are clouds that o'er the forest roar, 
And on the earth their gushing waters pour. 
Our Castle-ground so anxiously retained, 
Is alien now — shall never be regained. 
Where are the children of the Rising Sun ? 
Their lands are all by strangers overrun. 
The white-man kindles fires upon their graves- 
No place we own but what he greedy craves. 
Alas ! our tribes are waning to a waste, 
From earth their names will speedy be erased. 
My children, guard ; nor give your signature 
To wicked papers, written to allure 
And rob. But to your christian teacher state 
Your interest frank : He's true, and straight. 



SPEECH OF SKENANDO, 

J±t His lOOth. Year. 

Speech in prose, as given me by the Reverend 
Mr. Jenkins, the missionary at Oneida, who took 
it down in short hand, which, in the original, 
was far more splendid : — 



HIS SPEECHES. 69 

" I am an aged hemlock. I am dead at the 
top. The winds of an hundred winters have 
whistled through my branches. Why my Jesus 
keeps me here so long, I cannot conceive. Pray 
ye to him, that I may have patience to endure 
till my time may come." 

On another occasion he said : "I want to die 
and be laid along aside my good minister Kirk- 
land, that when he rises, I may go up with him 
in the resurrection." 

I stand an aged hemlock in your sight ; 
My top is dead, and turned to snowy white. 
An hundred winter's winds have whistled thro' . 
My branches pending to the earth below. 
My trunk is scarred by catamount and bear — 
Beneath my root the wolf has made his lair. 
My bark is hacked by hunter's tomahawk ; 
My squaw is fallen by death's unsparing shock. 
My trees coeval moulder on the ground, 
Whilst nought but saplings compass me around. 
Pray to the Lord my patience may endure — 
May make my calling and election sure. 
But tell my brothers, for I wish to know 
Why Jesus keeps me here : I long to go, 

G 



70 SKENANDOAH. 

And join my brethren, evermore to stand 
A fadeless hemlock in the Spirit land. 
But when I fall, by Kirkland's sacred tomb 
Bury this trunk ; that when the call shall come — 
With Kirkland's form my own may haply rise, 
To mount with him above the azure skies. 

Thus spake the chief, — 'twas his centennial — 
To white and red-man, waiting at his call. 

What wonders can this priceless Gospel do, 
That saves the white-man, turns the savage too ? 



BURIAL OF SKENANDO. 

Now at his wish, oft named before lie died, 
The chief and teacher slumber side by side. 
On classic Clinton's undulating slope 
Their ashes rest, where Heaven-aspiring Hope 
Oft sits, serene, but lifts her cheerful eye, 
And speaks their union 'neath a holier sky. 
While Faith, firm leaning on the "Living Stone," 
Beholds them bowing low before the throne ; 
Where millions saved, of every tribe and tongue, 
Extol the Lamb with ever-during song. 



71 



A MODERN POCAHONTAS. 

RESCUE OF JUDGE DEAN FROM THE TOMAHAWK.* 

They lay him down on a grassy bed ; 
They call a council for the dead, 
And vengeful waxes the savage mood, 
— For white man shed the red-man's blood. 
And move, they, after grave debate, 
To enforce their law of ancient date ; 
" Blood for blood," is the fixed decree : 
— The shielded slayer roameth free ; 
Some pale-faced victim, in his stead, 
Must suffer vengeance for the dead. 
Who earliest, in adventurous hour, 
Shall place himself in Indian's power ; 
Or o'er Oneida's border walk — 
Stands victim for the tomahawk. 
— Anon, unwarned, a form is seen 
Athwart the line. Alas ! 'twas Dean,— 

*Judge Dean was the Indians' friend, interpreter and defender, 
then living ten miles from Oneida. The murder of the Indian 
took place in a blacksmith's shop, where they had stopped to 
cook some fish they had caught. 



72 MOBERN POCAHONTAS. 

The Indian's faithful, pale-faced friend. 
Why him, should that Great Spirit send ? 
— Again the tribe and chiefs' convene, 
Where Skenando is foremost seen ; 
The advocate of Dean confessed, — 
And bold the council thus addressed : 
" You chiefs would not let go the bear 
" That spoils your corn : yet fail to spare 
" The big-horned buck that does no harm. 
" Who is more faithful friend, and warm 
" Than is our Muloh-qua-de-hah,* 
" Who has not broke our ancient law ? 
" Can't trap the wolf that kills your deer, 
" And therefore seize what happeneth near. 
11 A squaw, whose son is dead and gone, 
" Has made him her adopted son. 
" He's one of us by our election ; 
" He therefore forms a fair exception. 
" By slaying him, we slay a friend — 
"It will the Mani-tof offend." 
But vain, thus argues Skenando ; 
The chiefs believe that Mani-to 

*Dean's Indian name, meaning The Rising Sun. 
+Manito is the Indian name for the Great Spirit. 



RESCUE OF JUDGE DEAN. 73 

Shows Muloh-qua-de-ha, 

The destined victim to their law. 

— Again, but sad, the chiefs convoke 

To name the brave to inflict the stroke. 

And who of all could volunteer, 

To smite a friend, so true, so dear ? 

On Powlis fell the council vote, 

A chieftain brave of honored note ; 

Who twenty summer suns had stood, 

The favored friend of Dean the good. 

— And shall he quail — nor strike the blow^? 

" I, Powlis fail ? No ! chieftains,— no / 

" The Great Good Spirit bids me go — 

" That ancient statute I obey ; 

" This hand, the destined one shall slay." 

Then chose him two to aid, if need, 

Or witness to the fated deed. 

And he seizes the hatchet he used in the war, 

And hies with his aids to the cottage afar ; 

And the death-whoop is heard in the gloom of 

the night — 
The owl gives response as he wingeth his flight — 
The victim is startled but not with affright. 
Apprised of the pagans' enacted decree, ' 

02 



74 MODEEN POCAHONTAS. 

He will not resist them, nor cowardly flee. 
He knows his disgrace if he ventures to fly ; 
Apprises his wife his departure is nigh ; 
The pagans shall see how a christian can die. 
When the foot of the slayer is heard at the door, 
And it opens to welcome the savage once more. 
When a voice quite familiar saluteth his ear : 
" You ask for my name, and my business here — 
" 'Tis Powlis. I come at Oneidas' command 
" The blood of the murdered to take at your 

hand.'' 
" But Powlis : Why levy revenge u$>on me f ■ 
" And so let the guilty offender go free ? 
"And will .the Great Spirit uphold and defend 
"The chieftain who slaughters his innocent 

friend?" 
At the hint of their friendship the slayer delays ; 
Emotions of tenderness dimly betrays — 
Withdraws, with his comrades to counsel again ; 
But the question to spare, is debated in vain ; 
Returned, — he delivers his final reply : 
"The pale-faced has murdered — a pale-face must 

die !" 
— When quick, at the threshold, light footsteps 

are heard : 



RESCUE OF JUDGE DEAN. 75 

Two squaws venture in, and the blow is deferred. 
" Forbear !" quoth the older, " strike not the 

allied 1 — * 

" The adopted of mine, for my son that has died. 
" His claim of exemption is thereby implied." 
— But the force of her }}leading, he fails- to 

discern ; 
*The squaws' intermeddling he ventures to spurn ; 
To yield to misgiving is womanish now — 
And he lifted his hatchet to level the blow, 
"When quickly the matron a barrier stood, 
With glittering knife upraised for his blood : 
"Dare, Powlis, to smite, and our life-stream shall 

flow 
" With the blood of the victim who falls by the 

blow." 
Astounded, the chief and his comrades withdraw; 
And Dean is released from the claim of the law. 

Heroic woman !— name unknown ; 

Thy rescue dread was nobly done ! 

Who planned the rescue none might know — 

Conjecture names Old Skenando. • 



76 



THE RURAL MAID, 



OF THE MOHAWK VALLEY. 



A TRUE STORY. 



Just past sixteen, in rural school, 
'Mid girls and boys, on bench and stool 
Sat Hannah, with her book and slate, 
To figure sums and calculate. 

And, oft, to help her do the sum, 
A slender form is seen to come ; 
But why the teacher loves to stay, 
He hardly knows and does not say. 

For Hannah, reared in humble life 
"Was scarce appropriate for his wife- 
A youth genteel, and college-bred, 
Should not step lower down to wed* 

But still, as daily she pursued 

Her loved employ, he came, and stood ; 



THE RURAL MAID. 77 

And came too oft for his repute — 
A partial master would not suit. 

So bade himself beware in future : 
And seem the teacher not the suitor. 
To teach to read and write and spell, 
Good grammar parse, to cypher well. 

And still, as wont, the pupil fair 
Came in, and sat, and studied there ; 
With simple home-spun garb arrayed, 
Of woof, and warp, her hands had made. 

And spite of pride and fancied worth ; 

Of polish high and goodlier birth, 

The rural girl was inly stealing 

His smothered thought and muffled feeling; 

Still livelier burns the name within, 
All to the observeless girl unseen ; 
And yet it seems a grateful pain ; 
To check it, would be all in vain. 

And as his teaching term grew shorter, 
He would it were another quarter ; 
But no, he would not play the fool, 
For pupil of a country school. 



78 THE EUEAL MAID. 

The term now closed, lie sat him down 
In office of a polished town, 
To study deep and tumble o'er, 
The weary page of legal lore. 

Yet weekly went to ambulate 
Adjacent where his pupils sate. 
But ah ! — he could not ponder why, 
That nymph would ever meet his eye^ 

And, when at country hop, perchance. 
His eye would spy her in the dance. 
And sure, none in the student's sight, 
Would trip more gracefully and lights 

When older maidens named a ride, 
The pupil had a seat inside ; 
And if they asked — he told them why — 
"He liked to have his pupil nigh." 

And weekly, in the House of prayer. 
He caught his Hannah's presence there : 
In short, the simple, artless maid, 
Unwitting, crossed each promenade. 



THE RURAL MAID. 79 

Thus passed the months quite happily, 
And slid they onward rapidly ; 
For Hannah now was past eighteen — 
Improved in mind, in form, and mien. 

Bethought him now, he'd condescend 
To ask her for connubial friend. 
So, sought the proper time to impart, 
And tell dear Hannah all his heart. 

Judge, tender swain, or maid, or dame, 
( — If you have ever felt the same,) 
That student's painful, rueful pother, 
To find her spoken for another. 

His heart assumed so sad a state, 

It nearly ceased to palpitate. 

Yet he had learned by his profession, 

That claim obtains from long possession. 

" I had her mind to cultivate, 
" Long time when in her pupil state ; 
" In dance and rides I've had her hand, 
M She's held my heart at her command." 



80 THE RURAL MAID. 

He thought, from occupance like this, 
The Law would make possession his. 
He tried the cause, but poor his boot — 
The rural girl dismissed his suit. 

Bethought him now, he'd faithful try 
The power of cool philosophy : 
" Drive out her image from his mind, 
61 And other better subjects find." 

Yet, pondering o'er in long succession, 
The authors of his choice profession ; 
The image of that rural girl, 
"Would set his heart-strings all atwirl. 

The fairest of the numerous fair, 
With Hannah suffered poor compare. 
In truth, he failed to quench the fire : 
Nor would he let the flame expire. 

So painful 'twas, and yet so sweet, 
He could not study well nor eat. 
He felt that pupil must comply, 
Or Hannah's teacher sure would die. 



THE RURAL MAID. 81 

He paled, and trembled o'er his book ; 
Soft sleep at night, his brow forsook ; 
Love's copious tears bedewed his pillow, 
He felt so like a weeping willow. 

Indeed, mayhap, he would have died, 
If Hannah's heart had not complied. 
He found, she did not love that other 
At wish of mother, sister, brother. 

Renewed his suit, that legal lover, 
All pains and damage to recover. 
And leave was given for his possession, 
At future day — on fit occasion. 

Say not, ye cold philosophising, 
The love-lorn swain deserves despising ; 
Nor boast that you could quench the flame, 
Till you have felt the very same. 

The minstrel might prolong his lay, 
And sing the happy bridal day, 
Her pious life, and peaceful death, 
But nothing more the minstrel saith. 



82 



JOHN GILPIN OF THE MOHAWK VALLEY, 
Or, Lord Neville on Wheels. 



A TRUE ADVENTURE. 



A lord from Britain's Royal Isle, 
Dwelt out of town an English mile ; 
And lived, and talked, and acted oddly, 
As seemed nor blithe, nor wise, nor godly. 

From rich co-heirs he hither fled 
To save his gold and life, he said. 
For kindred heirs this lord had many — 
But had nor wife, nor children an v. 

One morn he came from his lonely hut 
'Neath soiled hat, in thread-bare coat, 
And hired a thing to hitch a horse on ; 
Then went and said to a village parson : 

"I purpose, sir, a country ride, 

" For self alone — I've none beside — 

" Have you a horse both true and clever, 

"Which starts, nor kicks, nor runneth ever?" 



JOHN GILPIN. 83 

"I've such a horse." " Well, then I'll hire, 
" 'Tis just the pony I admire I" 
So he hitched him to a neighbor's wagon, 
Whose shafts no iron hold-backs had on. 

And away they went o'er hill and dale, 
To tell how went, my verse would fail ; 
But oft, when into valley dipping, 
The shafts unstayed, shot forward, slipping. 

With loops thus sliding on the thill, 
They ran through Wales to Hamptonville, 
But made short pause at famed Yerona, 
To rest and feed the fretted pony. 

" Poor way," said he, " to play the lord, 
"But better style, I can't afford; 
" And much against my Noble feeling, 
" Is this unenviable wheeling" 

" I'll tax my skill and wit to search 
"Why ride I thus with jerk and lurch." 
But wit, saw nothing in the wag-on, 
To hurry thus the gall-ed nag on. 



84 JOHN GILPIN, OJB 

So starts again to jerk and roll, 

O'er causeway, hollow, bridge and knoll, 

And gains — a little after fore-noon — 

The nick-named ville, or town Mt. Vernon. 

Thence leaving, ran they furious down 

To Manchester, a factory town — 

So named in reverent imitation, 

Of one thus named i'the Mother Nation. 

— At length came homeward, Dick and lord ; 
Dick galled, and lathered and begored — 
And as he felt himself the stronger, 
Declared he'd bear the thumps no longer. 

Resolved to use the speed of heels, 
To rid himself of lord and wheels — 
And meant to try the project thorough, 
Dowji Bradley Hill to Whitestown borough. 

Twas training day, and the village green 
"Was thronged, and all the road between. 
And midst their marching, filing, drumming, 
They spied the lord and pony coming. 



LOED NEVILLE ON WHEELS. 85 

When hasting down a steepy pitch, 
The pony gave a powerful twitch, 
And brought his lordship, corpus totum 
From wagon seat to wagon bottom. 

And there he sat in Koyal state — 
Horse running at a fearful rate ; 
And said within : "I fear disaster ; 
" The more I pull, he runs the faster." 

" What ails the horse ? what ails the wheels? 
" Con-tact with tail, and shank, and heels — 
" Why pony — why so awful speedy ? 
" Be steady sir, be steady — steady." 

But swifter still, became his speed ! 
— Was ever such unruly steed ? — 
When oif flew Neville's wig and leghorn, 
He had in all his later age worn. 

" Alas !" quoth he, " I'm going down : 
" I've left my seat ; I've lost my crown ; 
" I'm down upon the very bottom — 
" Unruly horse and wagon — rot 'em." 

H2 



86 JOHN GILPIN, OR 

In truth, his lordship suffered sore, 
With haunches on the splintered floor ; 
Approaching too, in wild disorder, 
The gazing crowd and .village border! 

The " train-band captain" cries, " stand back ! 
" Retire, spectators : clear the track. 
" That man, with horse is in a rage, or 
" He runneth thus to win a wager." 

The train-band, quick as lightning, cleft — 
Quick ope'd the crowd to right and left : 
Swift thro' went horse, and lord, and wagon, 
Like Sancho chained to wing-ed dragon. 

Aside, the promenaders sprang — 
With plaudits loud, the village rang — 
Of bawling boys — of boosy bodies, 
Of loafers low, and roaring rowdies. 

Around they flew from block to block, 
Past corner, pillar, post and stock, 
And stopped at home, at pony's pleasure, 
To leave the driver at his leisure. 






LORD NEVILLE ON WHEELS. 87 

And there, his lordship lowly sate, . 
"With 'shevelled hair and balded pate ; 
And cried : " You've hired me nag unruly — 
"I'd like to have lost my head, most truly. 

"Just see, sir, — by a mighty pull 
" He jerked me thus to vessel's hull. 
" Hard work I had — mirdbile dictu, 
"The bottom of the hull to stick to." 

Said Parson: "Pony's good, and true — 
" The blame, if any, rests on you. [sir, 

" You've rigged with neither catch nor hook, 
"To stay the load — get out and look, sir. 

" 'Tis true," quoth he ; "I see, I see, 
" The blame and shame lie all on me. 
" When next I ride, true as the Book sir, 
"I'll mind the needful catch or hook, sir." 

Thus some, in life's adventurous course, 
Conduct as reckless and far worse — 
Secure no safety hook to hitch on, 
And rush to ruin and perdition. 



88 



A NIGHT KIM ON THE ICE 

OF ONEIDA LAKE. 



A HEART RENDING OCCURRENCE. 



Some years ago, a company of young people 
crossed over in a sleigh, from the West to the 
East side of the lake, in pleasant and happy 
mood, little dreaming of the sorrowful sequel. 
They returned in the evening, during a gather- 
ing snow-storm, fell into a chasm, or seam in 
the ice, lost their horses and sleigh in the water, 
and barely escaped with their lives. Sowewhat 
wet and chilled, they sought their way to the 
western shore. Two of the party, a gentleman 
and lady, became separated from the rest, and 
being bewildered in the dark and storm of the 
night, lost their poroper course, walked round 
and round till the female wore her thin shoes to 
tatters, and then continued walking in her stock- 
ing feet, till she became chilled and exhausted, 
and sunk down at the root of some tree, once 
afloat and frozen in, and consented that her 
partner, whom I shall name Henry, should seek 



NIGHT RIDE ON THE ICE. 89 

the shore. Being now disencumbered of his 
precious charge, he, after some seeking, found 
the shore ; entered a dwelling, and with help, 
bearing a lantern in his hand, returned to the 
once suffering girl, and found her beyond all 
further suffering — a corpse, stiffened by the 
freezing storm. The occurrence poured sorrow 
and mourning into the family of her relatives, 
and cast a continuous gloom far around the 
border of that beautiful water, now bridged 
with ice. The particulars were given me by a 
sister of the deceased, during my after mission- 
ary excursion upon its margin. The following is 
a soliloquy suggested by the event : 



Soliloquy of a Female Perishing by Frost. 

Haste, Henry, for help, for the chilled and the 

weary ; 
I wait thy return in the darkness so dreary ; 
To the shore of Oneida— Oh, fly ! Oh, fly !— 
>Tis hard to forbode, I must die ; I must die. 

Thou frost-wind : Why pour on thy victim thy 

fury ; 
From the home of the living, me cruelly hurry ? 



90 NIGHT RIDE ON THE ICE. 

Thou Ruler of tempests, have pity on me, on 

me — 
From their wrath I appeal unto Thee, unto Thee- 

I fancy I hear the dread wolf at his growling ; 
Ah, no ! 'Tis the North-wind more pitiless 

howling — 
In the home I have left, hi my glee, in my glee : 
Is mother now dreaming of me, of me ? 

Speed onward, my Henry, to the home of my 

father, 
Where loved ones around the warm hearth-stone 

now gather — 
Then back to my rescue, hi haste, in haste ; 
My life-tide is curdling, quite fast, quite fast. 

O God of my father, to Thee I unburden — 
Thy penitent hear ; thy suppliant pardon. 
O hasten my Henry, return ere I die, I die — 
Come — take my last kiss — my sigh, last sigh. 

Now, rave ye wild winds, perform your endeavor, 
From life and from friends, your victim to sever > 
Farewell, O, my mother, my father, farewell, 

farewell : 
'Tis well with your daughter, 'tis well, 'tis well. 



91 



"A MOTHER IN ISRAEL." 

OnTyon green steep, whose brow commands, 
Young Millstone's little lazy flood, 

An aged widow's mansion stands ; 
Dear to the pious and the good. 

Ub child of malady or woe, 

Has tried her humble door in vain ; 

]Nor sti-auger guest can well forego, 
To tread her rustic floor again. 

But kindlier is her welcome given 
To those who love her Lord's employ. 

Her Saviour and the bliss of Heaven 
Are all her talk, and all her joy. 

To ease the burdened soul, and speed 

The prodigal's return to God, 
Is her delight. She loves to lead 

Lost wanderers in the Heavenly road. 

•Quick as one loud halloo — is heard 
From Millstone's distant grassy side, 



92 A MOTHER IN ISRAEL. 

Briskly her little boat is steered 
Across the oft frequented tide. 

Scarce do your feet her threshold gain, 
Ere hearty greeting, "How'd ye' do F 

And friendly smiles, and hands soft strain 
Bespeak you loved, and welcome too. 

Her apples, ready served, how sweet — 
For these are tokens of her love ; 

But more, her christian converse meet 
All, tending to the world above. 

Ah ! Soon I leave good Jersey's soil, 
And little Millstone's slopy shore ; 

And may not, in a little while, 

Hear Aunt Maria's welcome more. 



She, w T hom every christian loved and called 
Aunt Maria, had fled to Heaven when the 
author of the above next time crossed "Little 
Millstone." Her only son, whom she so often 
prayed for when alive, was hopefully con- 
verted by her death. She pleaded the cove- 
nant of Abraham. 



93 



TO MR. DANIEL BERRIAff, 

BRUSH MAKER, NEW-YORK, 

ON PRESENTING ME WITH A CLOTHES BRUSH. 

My thanks to friend Daniel, and praise to his wit 

For sending the parson a present so fit. 

Your brush was to hint, — if I know what you 

mean — 
Old bachelors wedded most commonly lean 
To torpor of body ; and need frequent rubbing. 
Or sloven in habit, require a good scrubbing. 
You meant to advise me, as preachers might 

guess : 
"Brush up your old sermons, and mend your 

address." 
'Tis well you have chidden the dull missionary, 
And brushed at the rust of the brain which I 

carry. 
But this is most plain sir, and worthy of note, 
You thought by your bristles to touch my black 

coat. 



94 



DEATH AND BURIAL 

OF A CENTENARIAN. 

Patriot of an hundred years ; 
Remnant of thy brave compeers ; 
Patriarch, thou hast fallen now, 
Yictim of the " final foe." 
Trumpet voice, or cannon roar 
Hear thou wilt not ever more. 
Nor wil't hazard more thy life, 
In thy country's martial strife. 
Thou wast one of the " minute men," 
Called by the war-note 'gain and again ; 
"Warned by the frequent larum-drum, 
Wife to leave and peaceful home ; 
Quick away to the river shore, 
Where fell thick the bullet shower ; 
Where the naval men-of-war, 
Sent their iron missiles far — 
Desolating sea and strand : 
Spreading woe through all the land. 



DEATH OF A CENTENARIAN. 95 

All ! we cannot well conceive, 
What our fathers did to achieve 
Freedom for an heritage 
In that by-gone, battling age. 
Yeteran — now we lay thee down 
In thy lowly mansion brown. 
Ask we no posthumous glory 
For the Christian father hoary. 
Well thou 'duredst the Christian stife : 
Thou shalt wear the " Crown of Life ;" 
Simple tombstone here shall rise, 
Telling where our father lies — 
Lieth till a brighter morn, 
Wake him for a better bourne. 
Mournful sighs and tears withhold ; 
Peaceful died our father old.* 



♦The author's Father, Phineas Camp, whose remains lie in 
Whitestown Cemetery. 



96 



THE VALLEY OF DEATH NOT DARK. 



During the last illness of Charlotte Bradish Wells, she 
exclaimed : "lam going through the Dark Valley, but my 
Saviour's with me : it is not dark to me."* 



I take my leave of all below : 
I'm in the shady valley now. 
"Us no dark valley sure, to me, — 
My Saviour's with me — " I am free 
From foes that haunt this crowded way : 
He is my shield, my strength, my stay. 

This valley dark ? 'Tis dark to none, 
Save those who my dear Saviour shun ; 
Who trod, himself this gloomy path, 
Atoned for sin and conquered death ; 
Made this dark passage safe and bright : 
The upward road to realms of light. 

Friends — ye must pass the valley too ; 
Secure the light tjiat guides me through. 



THE VALLEY OF DEATH NOT DARK. 97 

Nor call this vale the way of night — 
'Tis the blest path to realms of light. 
'Tis no dark valley sure, to me, 
My warefare ends, — " I'm free : I'm free." 



♦Written at the request of Cornelia and S. Bradish, sisters of the 
deceased. 



98 



Died, at her residence, in the city of Utica, on the 25th 
of September, 1853, Joanna Camp, wife of John Bradish, 
Esq., aged 63 years. 

Mrs. Bradish was, for 34 years, a consistent member of 
the First Presbyterian church of Utica. She was an ex- 
emplary model of a Christfan housewife, a "mother at 
home," tenderly alive to the temporal, and especially to 
the spiritual interests of her family. As a wife, and a 
mother, " she was, indeed, a pattern of all that is most 
lovely in woman. It was her daily study to make her 
children happy, and to plant in their minds those beauti- 
ful attributes of virtue, which she herself so eminently 
possessed." " Her children rise up and call her blessed, 
her husband also, and he praiseth her." Home cares pre- 
vented not the exercise of her kindly sympathy with the 
sick and afflicted around her ; nor did she neglect to 
afford benevolent aid to the suffering abroad. 

These qualities, eminently belonging to her, were highly 
prized by all who knew her, and for these they loved her. 
Besides a numerous family, she leaves to mourn for her a 
brother, one only remaining of eleven children of Phineas 
Camp, formerly of Durham, Conn., who died in his one 
hundredth year. Thus pass away the generations of earth. 



THE LAST TIE BROKEN; 

OR, THE LAST OF ALL TO HIS SISTER. 

Thou hast left me sister, here alone to weep, 
O'er all who called me brother ! All now sleep. 
Ten times the cord has rent, that held us bound 



THE LAST TIE BEOKEN. 99 

In loving brotherhood. 'Tis no more found. 
'Twill snap no more. No sister's tears shall fall 
O'er my cold cheek. For, " I am last of all." 
Oh, had I taken but one more kiss of thee, 
As when we met ! Oh, could I once more see 
That look of thine, that lightened oft my heart ! 
Would I had heard thee say : "brother, we part 
To meet again." I wasn't to see thee die : 
To catch thy parting words — to close thine eye. 
One treasured look from thee, would ease my 
Would give my lonely spirit, some relief [grief — 
From this sad thought that, I am last of all : 
The last of those that filled my father's hall. 
Twin-like in childhood's happy days we loved — 
We loved still more, as life's car upward moved. 
I trace the time, when pillowed on one cot, 
Our infant locks entwined. 'Nov have forgot — 
In lamb-like playfulness, o'er hill and dale 
We gambolled : peaceful, blitheful, hale. 
How oft to school, I drew the o'er the snow, 
And home-ward drew thee happy, quite, to know 
Thou loved'st me more, than all the noisy throng 
That shouted rudely, as we passed along. 



100 THE LAST TIE BROKEN. 

Years passed — and thou wert wife, then mother, 

midst a home 
Of loving ones. And now the parting scene 

has come ; 
We've laid thee lowly there, where Autumn's 

pale leaves fall — 
Husband and children laid, and I, — the last of 

all. 



REPLY TO THE LAST OF ALL. 

Lingering beneath those dark sepulchral trees, 
Where aged hemlocks* whisper to the breeze : 
I heard those moans of husband, children, all — 
Where o'er my loved ones, Autumn's pale leaves 
Complain no more — O weep not over me ; [fall. 
From wasting dust, from sinful flesh, I'm free. 
Weep with the Saviour over fallen men ; 
Prepare, prepare: we soon shall meet again. 
I go, I go : I hear the angels call ; 
Rejoice, rejoice ; thou lone and last of all. 

♦Hemlocka shaded the place in the Utica Cemetery, at tho tirae 
of the burial 



101 



WRITTEN WHILE TRAVELLING 

AS A MISSIONARY. 

Once climbing the summit that lifts his gray head,. 

O'er CattskhTs famed village below, 
As petulant March was beginning to shed, 

Few smiles midst her tresses of snow. 

A favorite warbler of varied note, 

Was cheerefully trilling his song ; 
Apparently trying the powers of his throat — 

Which winter had palsied so long. 

I listened ; and fancied the theme of his lays', 
Was the welcome arrival of spring, 

The loves and the pleasures of sunnier days, 
And the goodness of nature's great King. 

When quick o'er the mountain a tempest of snow, 

Poured chilly and gloomily down. 
Disappointed, the bird bade his strains cease to 

Till winter be broken and gone. [flow, 

'Tis thus with the Christain in his winter below; 

His bright days are fitful and few ; 
He will sing with the birds mid the flurries of snow, 

But sweeter when winter is through. 



102 



THE FRENCHMAN AND HIS DOG ; 

Or, A Panther-Conflict at the Head of the Mohawk. 

Fort Stanwix, now called Rome, was early- 
signalized, among other things, by the following 
pioneer adventure : — 

Some years subseqent to the war of the Revo- 
lution, when its vicinity was still a forest, beauti- 
ful in its native scenery ; when the rivers and 
the creeks were shaded by the maple, the birch, 
the hemlock and the butternut ; when the pine 
and the cedar thickly studded the low-lands ; 
the bear, the deer, the elk and the wolf, still 
lingered there to feed, to howl and to make prey. 
Not then, as now, did the wolf-yell of the car- 
whistle startle you, but instead, the yell of the 
real wolf and panther. 

On a pleasant morning of early autumn, (I 
think,) a Frenchman, somewhat anglicized, set off 
from Fort Stanwix with dog and gun, on an 
excursion for Rotterdam, situated on the shores 
of the Oneida Lake. His business was less that 
of hunting than other employ. He was a novice 
at hunting, and bore arms more for defence 



THE FRENCHMAN 103 

than for game. He had not passed far into the 
unbroken forest, when he perceived, by the mo- 
tion of his dog a little ahead of him, that some 
species of game was at hand. He approached 
still farther, when he spied, by the direction of 
Pomp's nose, a large creature ; a something he 
could not name, a little beyond them on a tree, 
in the attitude of leaping ; and in an instant saw 
him leap directly toward them, with evident inten- 
tion to seize the master rather than the dog, 
who caught him beneath the jaws almost before 
he reached the ground; and as if by instinct 
stretched himself in a line with the beast, as if 
aware that the animal, could he reach him with his 
hind claws, would, like the common cat, disem- 
bowel him in an instant. At the same moment, 
nearly, the Frenchman pitched in, and being too 
near to shoot safely, seized him by the tail and 
stretched himself m line, also ; and then it was pull 
against pull ; or, as Rowland Hill once said, in 
Exeter Hall, yet on a very different occasion : 
" A long pull, a strong pull, and a pull together," 
— yet in a different direction. A ludicrous scene, 
indeed, if not too tragic to be called ludicrous. 
But they had none but the chippering birds and the 
chattering squirrels to laugh at them. Terrible 
was the conflict ! No one could imagine how the 
leaves and the dust flew aside, and aft, and up- 



104 THE FRENCHMAN. 

wards by the claws of the monster. The master 
saw his dog must die if he let go, and the dog 
seemed to think the same of his master. His 
gun, in the strife, was thrown beyond his reach, 
and the animal was too strongly knit to be 
entailed, or unbailed, or beheaded, by pulling. 
How long they would have pulled, none could 
predict ; but they did pull till the bij)ed found a 
hemlock knot in the struggle, and with it, bat- 
tered the rampart of his ribs, and made a breach 
in the walls, so that the enemy surrendered, but 
to receive no quarter. The assailant fell, at the 
teeth and hands of his antagonists, two against one. 
After resting a little to recruit their strength, the 
master shouldered the spoil, and returned to the 
fortress with his dog for his front guard ; aston- 
ishing the Romans with the matter, and manner 
of the achievment. The Frenchman could not 
yet name his captive. But it was a catamount, 
alias panther, of huge dimensions. From the 
history given, the dog received the highest 
praise, as having saved his master by his skilful 
nianceuvering. It was probably thought, that 
no more daring exploit was performed by either 
Ganzevoort or Willet, during the seige by St. 
Ledger with his tory and Indian hordes. After 
this the Frenchman was found more frequently 
at the chase. 

A year or more subsequent to this, he was on 



AND HIS DOG. 



105 



his skates in pursuit of a deer on the slippery 
surface of Oneida, when falling into an air-hole, 
he became entangled by his skates and could not 
disengage himself; could barely hold up on the ice 
till help might arrive. But no human being was 
near. His dog missed him, — returned from his 
chase, — sought him by the scent of his feet, and 
found him thus entangled ; seized his hat with 
his teeth ; this coming off, he laid it down and 
then held him by his hair till he, by reaching his 
knife, in his pocket, cut loose from his skates 
and thus emerged from a winter grave, chilled 
and nearly exhausted. This sagacious and affec- 
tionate act added new lustre to the fame of Pomp. 
His praise was upon many tongues, and all eyes 
longed to have a sight at him ; but none could 
buy or decoy him from his master. He was his 
best friend ; and must lodge with him, eat with 
him, and visit with him. How many bears, 
wolves, deer, catamounts and coons they cap- 
tured in their after excursions, history does not 
tell. The writer has, in his youth, seen a 
descendant of Pomp ; and much prized was he. 
And many sought to obtain similar descendants, 
— and many such, peradventure, are now living. 
The prestige of the race was like that of the 
Bonaparte family, except that there was more 
humanity attached to it. But we must proceed 



106 THE FRENCHMAN 

with the history of the two friends. Some few 
years after this, the master was seen descending 
one of the tributaries of the beautiful Oneida, 
as a passenger, on board of a batteau, the only 
craft then used between Albany and Oswego. 
The dog on the shore had chased a deer into the 
stream, before the boat. A boatman lifted his 
pole to smite the deer, it bounded forward and 
the blow fell upon the nose of the dog swimming 
behind him, and he sank to rise no more alive. 
Bitter was the cry of his friend and master : 
" You have killed my best friend, — a friend in 
time of need ; and now what shall I do ? I have 
none to protect from the beasts — to rescue me 
from the chilly waters ; to cheer me in my soli- 
tary rambles and excursions." Nor was the 
master deprived of sympathy. All mourned the 
death of the affectionate Pomp ; regretted his loss ; 
and a general lamentation was made throughout 
the new settlements, on the lake and the streams 
at the head of the Mohawk — some descending, 
and leading to the St. Lawrence ; others to the 
Hudson. The subsequent fate of the master, 
was, also, a melancholy one. Shortly after this, 
a canoe was found floating on the lake, contain- 
ing his hat, and nothing else. He had fallen out 
and perished. No faithful Pomp was there to 
rescue him. Both found a similar grave, in the 



AND HIS DOG. 107 

same element on which they had sported and 
hunted ; not far divided in death. 

The vicinity of Rome had, before this, been 
rendered famous for canine humanity and sagacity. 
It was here where Tray, as he was called in the 
Revolution, rescued the lieutenant, that was 
scalped by an Indian, from certain death, by 
running for help afar off — to some fishermen, 
whom he pulled by the pantaloons till they fol- 
lowed him to the place of the sufferer, leaning 
upon a dead companion, nearly exhausted with 
the loss of blood. 

Great, now, the change of the scenery of the 
country round and near the head waters of the 
Mohawk, of Wood Creek and Fish Creek ; one 
through Oneida and Ontario and St. Lawrence 
to its gulf at the ocean ; the other through the 
Hudson to the ocean at New- York. Then the 
silver robed salmon journeyed up the river, 
through the lakes, up Wood Creek, beyond 
Rome. Art and navigation now shut them out. 
Also, the panther, the deer, and nearly all the 
wild animals herein named, are banished, with 
most of the noble forest trees that shaded them. 
The battlements of Stanwix have also disap- 
peared, to give way to buildings for tasteful 
residences and busy trade. Oriskany battle- 



108 THE FRENCHMAN 

ground, also, six miles down the Mohawk, has 
lost all of its wild and romantic aspect. The 
deer, the panther and the bear, no longer tread 
there among the relics of the war-chiefs. The 
forest has disappeared also, save a few stunted, 
low hemlocks and cedars. The log causeway is 
partially seen, embedded in the alluvial drift. 
The horn of the boatman, or cry of the driver 
on the " grand canal," is heard a little below it ; 
and the steam of the cars, a little farther down, 
startles the dairy cattle feeding over the ashes of 
the heroic dead. But Oriskany battle-field is 
noAV uninviting, to any who do not try to bring 
up remembrance of the past. Its romance is 
gone ; and the poet can sing of it only in refer- 
ence to the noble deeds of by-gone days. There 
is no poetry in the scenery, where roams now 
the dull cow to feed and produce material for 
the cheese-room, and the table of the epicure. 
While recently standing near the rivulet that 
was once stained by the blood of a soldier that 
saved his comrade, by warning him of the aim of 
an Indian behind a tree, I tried to realise the 
bloody tincture, but alas ! there was too much 
mud there to be metamorphosed in colored gore. 
The wood-land scenery, of the Avhole valley of 
Mohawk, is gone. A few tufts and patches of 
trees are alone seen, from Schenectady to Rome, 



AND HIS DOG. 109 

to tell, faintly, what it once was. The Mohawk, 
woodded thickly down to its very brink, with 
Nature's great variety, was once beautiful, en- 
chanting, poetical. The writer has now a clump 
of trees and shrubbery preserved, — -just at the 
foot of the extreme eastern end of Oriskany 
hill, five miles from the battle-ground, shading a 
spring, issuing thence to supply his dwelling with 
water, pure as the Pierian spring, — containing 
thirteen varieties, on a space of ground five rods 
square. My readers will excuse, if I name them, 
being representatives of the primeval forests, so 
dear to my boyhood. The venerable hemlock, 
the beach, three kinds of cherry, three species 
of maple, the birch, the ash, the elm, the linden, 
or bass, the witch hazel, the witch hopple ; a few 
rods out, the dog-wood and the wild grape ; and 
he has, a little distance from this, the tulip 
tree, the black maple and the ground hemlock. 
Beautiful, romantic, heroic Valley! what art 
thou now ? Dull with art and commerce, and 
■prosaic navigation. Scenes of my boyhood — no 
longer youthful, but like myself, hoary and time- 
worn ! If pristine beauty may no more visit 
thee, yet may cruel war no more ravage thee. 



J-: 



110 



A BEAR HUNT ON THE MOHAWK. 

" Let a bear, robbed of her whelps, meet a man, rather 
than a fool in his folly."— Pro v. 17 : 12. 

Judea, in her early occupancy by the Israel- 
ites, was much exposed to the ravages of the 
bear : as on one occasion, mentioned in II Kings, 
2 chap., — two of those beasts killed upwards of 
forty of the young railers of the streets. The 
Valley of the Mohawk, was, in early days, much 
thus exposed. Solomon had, doubtless, heard 
his valiant father tell his exploits with a bear, in 
his youth, which he slew, together with a lion : 
had, probably, himself met a bear robbed of her 
whelps, on which he founded his proverb ; had, 
doubtless, also met bawling fools in the streets, 
as did the Prophet Elisha, when they said: "Go 
up, bald head, go up bald head ;" despising his 
age, and his religion, and his God ; and who 
suffered severe punishment for railing at the 
aged, as forbidden in Leviticus 19th, 32d : "Thou 
shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honor 
the face of the old man." 

For the entertainment of the youth, especially, 
the writer records the case in which lie "met a 
bear robbed of her whelps :" 



A BEAR HUNT. Ill 

It was early in the season of Autumn, when 
Indian corn began to develop its seared kernel, 
that, returning from driving the cows one morn- 
ing, I crossed over a corner of a. field a few rods 
from an adjacent wood, when I discovered traces 
of some animal in the corn, that I judged were 
those of the bear. It was a long time since any 
had appeared to re-kindle the hunter's fire. At 
some seasons, when the beech-nut and the black- 
berry were scarce, they would descend from the 
forest north of us, in numbers, and plunder the 
farmers's fields. Of the kind, two species were 
known, among us. One, lank and long-legged, 
very swift of foot, who would devour meat as 
well as corn ; the other, short-legged and bulky, 
who was entirely gramenivorous and fructifve- 
rous, who was often fat and edible. Of this latter 
species were those, now traced in the corn-field. 
On reporting the same to my father's family, a 
rally was made for a bear-hunt — in which rally, 
were three of my brothers. The well-known 
" bear-dog," Trump, was sent for, a mile distant. 
His master, also, keen for the chase, responded 
to the call. A swamp of hemlock and cedar, 
a mile up the Mohawk, where the bears usually 
hid themselves, was partially encircled by a 
cordon of men. My gun, a fowling-piece, which 
I had longed to honor with a shot, at some 



112 A BEAR HUNT 

visiting bruin, I had to surrender to an older 
brother, who was then present and gunless. As 
we passed on to the field of rencounter, I, with 
another, taller boy, was appointed to go and 
keep sentinel, on the bank of the river flanking 
the swamp, where the bears were known, when 
pursued, to cross at times, and escape. It was 
too far from any dwelling, to avail ourselves oi 
gun, or pike, or pitchfork, for defence; and 
before we had time to cut us each a club, Trump 
had caught a scent of the track, and was giving 
canine music at intervals; and soon, in quick 
succession, denoting near approach and warm 
encounter. Immediately we heard human voices 
at a distance, and thereafter, report of a gun. 
At that time, it seems, the animals had been 
suddenly disturbed, or routed from their lair ; 
proving to be a bear and two cubs — the former 
of whom, spying a brother of mine, also gunless, 
chased him up a small tree, unsuitable for bear- 
climbing, and who thus escaped encounter, and 
perhaps death. Had we known these circumstan- 
ces at the time, — " a bear robbed of her whelps," 
— we might have deserted our post. But a few 
moments passed, when we heard the faint yelp- 
ing of the hound in the swamp, near by us, and 
instantly saw the shaggy creature bounding over 
log and hillock, with the yelping dog at her 
heels, nipping her at almost every jump. It is 



ON THE MOHAWK. US- 

the habit of the bear, when thus nipped, to fall 
backward upon the dog, seize him, hug him, and 
kill him by a crush and a bite (I once saw an 
unskillful dog thus killed) ; but Trump had 
learned to let go at the right time, and the bear 
had no alternative, but to run from her pursuer.. 
At that time, I think my hair must have stood 
erect, as I was about to " meet a bear robbed of 
her whelps," — she was coming out from the 
swamp to cross the river, where we stood de- 
fenceless. My comrade, older, and more brave 
than I, took off his hat and fell to swinging it, 
and shouting at the top of his voice, and I fol- 
lowed suit. It was as the shout of a small army 
going to battle. It was too terrible for Bruin ; 
with dog at her heels — an enemy in front and in 
rear. She veered ; turned from the river at a 
wide angle, re-entered the swamp unpursued, 
save by brave Trump ; soon passed beyond our 
hearing, when the report of a gun, on the other 
side of the swamp, told the story of her fall. 
We traced the way slowly through the thicket, 
believing by the tokens, that the victory was 
won ; found her under the knife of the skinner, 
met the company, with their congratulations for 
our escape; as they expected by our outcry 
heard, that we had had fight and were wounded, 
and perhaps killed. Poor little cubs. I pittied 
them — now made orphans. They could not be- 



114 A BEAR HUNT 

found. Had they escaped by running, Trump 
would have scented and followed ; but they had, 
doubtless, according to instict, climbed a hem- 
lock and hid themselves in its branches, some 
distance from the place of their mother's slaugh- 
ter. I afterwards felt glad at their escape ; yet, 
perhaps, to starve in the wilderness. 

Truly, it might be said : This was meeting a 
bear robbed of her whelps. Thus, we fulfilled 
the Scripture, unwittingly. The writer would 
query, whether Solomon had not been annoyed 
by the folly of noisy rowdies, or railers of the 
streets, who play the fool to gratify a passion for 
syllyism and vulgarity ; who think it cunning 
to whistle and bawl themselves into notice — 
having little else worthy of notice — more to be 
pitied, however, than to be contemned ; perhaps, 
ill-bred, or no-bred. It may be, that Solomon, 
before he came to the throne of Israel, had been 
annoyed, also, at midnight, by something like 
the modern "hornings" at weddings, and pre- 
ferred the waul of the bear, to such beastly 
outrages upon good manners. Yet, it is uncer- 
tain, when and whence the custom arose. Per- 
haps, from the snort and wolf-howl of the steam 
horse. No such custom was rife, in the day 
above alluded to. Then, bear-hunts were so 
frequent, as that, in one season, near thirty bear- 



ON THE MOHAWK. 115 

skins, like trophies, adorned the different barns 
of the farmers. He has witnessed the slaughter 
of five bears, and seen three with cub, or cubs ; 
and the slaying of one wolf. Joyous were those 
occasions, in the time of my youth ! The fer- 
tilizing Mohawk, on whose stream the Indian 
paddled his canoe ; and afterward, the boatman 
pushed and rowed his batteau — is now, through 
Its whole length, stripped of a woody bordering ; 
and the flanking slopes and hills, are also des- 
poiled, in a measure, of their forest covering — 
so that the bear, and the deer, and the elk, are 
banished forever. Sad the remembrance ! regret- 
ful the change — relieved only, from the thought 
that commerce and agriculture, are thereby pro- 
moted, and the skulking Indian will no more 
hide in the valley to murder and to take captives. 
Over this tract, Skenando — on a visit at the 
house of Thomas R. Gold, Esq., deceased, — 
stretched his tawny hand, and exclaimed : " All 
this, was once mine. The range of my tribe, 
and the place of their hunting." Noble Chief ! 
Thou dost not live to see thy tribe dispersed 
and wasted to a remnant, on a reservation at the 
west. But thy memory shall not rot ! Thou 
wast one among a few, who embraced a Saviour's 
invitation, and are now beyond the reach of the 
sordid white-man's enticement — Ruinous Rum- 
t 



116 



THE SAGACIOUS HOG. 

For the lovers of natural history, and to please the 
youthful reader, the following is inserted in the work: 

Ps. 80th Chap. 13th Verse. 
"The Boar out of the Wood." 

The animal here named, which runs wild in 
some portions of the world, and of which men- 
tion is but once made in the Bible, may be 
deemed unworthy of a place in a work mainly 
of Poetry. But Inspiration deemed it otherwise, 
for it has place in a work wholly of Poetry, viz : 
the Psalms of the " sweet Singer." Many have 
thought the beast to be too gross, dull and gro- 
velling to look at, except on the agricultural list, 
and that the name sounds flat except connected 
with lard for cakes, and hams for the epicure. 
But it will be seen by the incidents following, 
that the hog deserves a name among the saga- 
cious : — 

Judge White the earliest pioneer settler in the 
Whitestown country, so called, and who gave 
name to a region comprising once nearly all 
Western New York, raised and drove in to the 
woods, as the earliest settlers have usually done, 
a large herd of swine to feed on the beech nuts, 



/ 






THE SAGACIOUS HOG. 117 

which in early days so abounded, as to fit the 
hogs for the pork barrel. In a short time they 
became so attached to the forest, as to lodge out 
days and nights. But Bruin of the long legged, 
meat-devouring species, found it out, and seemed 
determined to have a slice out of the meat ;" so 
he suddenly made attack on the herd, having 
fixed his eye on a certain one, who he thought, 
might forthwith furnish him with a roaster or 
two. A passer-by in the woods saw this attack, 
and watched the movement. The hogs were 
ranged in a harrow form, triangular, with a large 
boar for their Major. Their bristles were all 
erected, as the bear made his appearance, and 
Major, with foaming mouth, would dart furi- 
ously at Bruin, with his huge tusks bared like a 
dirk drawn, and especially furious when he made 
a pitch at the teeming female. Many attacks and 
retreats did Bruin make boldly, notwithstanding 
the roar and warlike phalanx attitude of the 
bristlers. But after a while, seemingly disheart- 
ened and foiled, made off, when Major watching 
the opportunity, like a brave and gallant knight 
offered his services, and conducted the exposed 
female safely to the barn yard of his master, 
leaving his subalterns to guard and defend, as 
well as they could in his absence. But he soon 
returned, and like a good officer conducted de- 

L 



118 THE SAGACIOUS HOG. 

tachnient after detachment from the main body 
to the farm yard, till they were at length, all 
safely brought off, and replaced in the care of 
their master. Wise, brave, compassionate and 
noble animal he was, and has raised the character 
of the same race, far above many that bear a 
higher name, even among the hoggish. 

Swine have been, however, greatly admired 
and promoted by the princely. Two individuals 
of the royal family of the monarch of Owyhean 
group, made a hog their companion even in the 
same dormitory, and the chiefs would allow him 
to pervade their councils and attend their feasts. 
Youth may take a lesson from this occurrence, 
viz : to be polite and helpful to the weaker sex, 
and to yield help to all who are in danger. Many 
a youth and grown man behaves hoggishly, but 
it must be said in reference to hoggish hogs, and 
and not to manly hogs, or in reference to those 
men that wallow in the mire of intemperance — 
that groan and squeal around liquor pools, where 
filthy conversation and profaneness most daringly 
sound from the impious tongue. In the caption, 
I said the name was not more than once found ; 
but swine and sow are named, and the sow is 
mentioned to denote the licentious and the ta- 
vern haunter. But our Major was too manly for 
such comparison. 



119 



1ST O T E I 



MYTHOLOGY OF THE IROQUOIS, OR SIX NATIONS, 

As originally drawn up by Judge Dean, the Indian interpreter, 
and furnished by his son, the late Judge Dean, of Utica : 

An unlimited expanse of water once filled the space now occu- 
pied by the world we inhabit. Here was the abode of total dark- 
ness, which no ray of light ever penetrated. At this time the 
human family dwelt in a country situated in the upper regions of 
the air, abounding in everything conducive to the comfort and 
convenience of life. The forests were full of game ; the lakes and 
streams swarmed with fish and fowl, while the earth and fields 
spontaneously produced a profusion of vegetables for the use of 
man. An unclouded sun enlivened their days, and storms and 
tempests were unknown in that happy region. The inhabitants 
were strangers to death, and its harbingers, pain and disease ; 
while their minds were free from the corroding passions of jealousy , 
hatred, malice and revenge ; so that their state was perfectly 
happy. 

At length, however, an event occurred, which interrupted their 
tranquility, and introduced care and anxiety, till then unknown. 
A certain youth was noticed to withdraw himself from the circle 
of their social amusements. The solitary recesses of the grove 
became his favorite walks ; care and chagrin were depicted in his 
countenance, and his body, from long abstinence, presented to the 
view of his friends, the mere skeleton of a man. Anxious solici- 
tude in vain explored the cause of his grief; until at length, 
debilitated both in body and mind, he yielded to the importunity 
of his associates, and promised to disclose the cause of his troubles, 
on condition that they would dig up by the roots, a certain white 
pine tree, lay him on his blanket by the margin of the hole, and 
seat his wife by his side. In a moment all hands were ready— the 
fatal tree was taken up by the roots, in doing which, the earth was 



120 NOTE I. 



perforated, and a passage opened to the abyss below. The blanket 
was spread by the hole, the youth laid thereon, and his wife took 
her seat by his side. The multitude, eager to learn the cause of 
euch strange, unusual conduct, pressed around, when on a sudden, 
to iheir horror and astonishment, he seized upon the woman, and 
precipitated her headlong into the regions of darkness below ; then 
riping from the ground, he informed the assembly that he had, 
for some time, suspected the chastity of his wife, and that having 
now disposed of the cause of his trouble, he should soon recover 
his usual health and vivacity. 

All those amphibious animals which now inhabit this world, 
then roamed through the watery waste, to which, the woman in 
her fall, was descending. The Loon first discovered her coming, 
and called a council in haste, to prepare for her reception, observ- 
ing, that the animal which approached was a human being, and 
that earth was indispensably necessary for her accommodation. 
The first subject of deliberation was, who should support the 
burden? The Sea Bear first presented himself for a trial of his 
strength : instantly the other animals gathered around and scram- 
bled up upon his back, while the bear, unable to support the 
weight, sunk beneath the surface of the water, and was judged by 
the whole assembly unequal to the task of supporting the earth. 
Several others, in succession, presented themselves as candidates 
for the honor, and with similar success. Last of all, the turtle 
modestly advanced, tendering his broad shell as the basis of the 
earth now about to be formed. The beasts then made trial of his 
strength to bear, heaping themselves upon his back ; and finding 
their united pressure unable to sink him below the surface, 
adjudged to him the honor of supporting the world. 

A foundation being thus provided, the next subject of delibera- 
tion was, how to procure earth. It was concluded it must be 
obtained from the bottom of the sea. Several of the most expert 
divers went in quest of it, and uniformly floated up dead to the 
surface of the water. The mink at length undertook the danger- 
ous plunge, and after a long absence, arose dead. By a critical 
examination, a small quantity of earth was discovered in one of 
his claws, which he had scratched from the bottom ; this being 
carefully preserved, was placed on the back of the turtle. 

In the meantime the woman continued falling, and at length 
alighted on the turtle. The earth had already grown to the size 



MYTHOLOGY OF THE IROQUOIS. 121 



of a man's foot where she stood with one foot covering the other. 
Shortly she had room for both feet, and was soon able to sit down. 
The earth continued to expand, and soon formed a small island, 
Bkirted with willow and other aquatic shrubbery ; and at length, 
stretched out into a widely extended plain, interspersed with 
rivers and smaller streams, which, with gentle currents, moved 
forward their tributary waters to the ocean. She repaired to the 
sea shore, erected a habitation, and settled in her new abode.- 

Not long after, she became the mother of a daughter, and was 
supported by the spontaneous productions of the earth, until the 
child arrived to adult years. She was then solicited in marriage 
by several animals, changed into the forms of young men. The 
loon first presented himself as solicitor at the door of the hut, in 
the form of a tall, fine-looking, well-dreesed young man.* After 
due consultation with the mother, his suit was rejected. Several 
others presented themselves, and were successively rejected by 
the mother ; until at length the turtle, with his short neck, 
humped back and bandy legs, offered himself as a suitor, and was 
received. After she had laid herself down to sleep, the turtle 
placed by her, two arrows in the form of a cross, one headed with 
flint, the other with the rough bark of a tree. She, in due time, 
became the mother of two sons, but died at their birth. 

The grandmother, enraged at her daughter's death, resolved to 
destroy the children ; and taking them in her arms, threw them 
both into the sea. Scarcely had she reached her wigwam, when 
the children overtook her at the door. The experiment was seve- 
ral times repeated, but in vain. Discouraged by her ill success, 
she determined to let them live. Then dividing the corpse of her 
daughter into two parts, she threw them up towards the heavens, 
when the lower half became the sun, the upper the moon, which 
is the reason she has always presented the form of the human 
face. Then began the succession of day and night in our world. 

The children speedily became men, and expert archers. The 
elder, whose name was Thauwiskalaw, had the arrow of the turtle 
pointed with flint, and killed with it, the largest beasts of the 
forest. The younger, whose name was Taulonghyauwangoon, had 
the arrow headed with bark. The former was, by his malignant 

* Probably very much resembling, both in appearance and intel- 
lect, a modern dandy.— B. 
L2 



122 NOTE I. 



disposition, and his skill and success in hunting, a favorite with 
his grandmother ; they lived in the midst of plenty, but would 
not permit the younger brother, whose arrow was insufficient to 
destroy anything larger than birds, to share in their abundance. 

As this young man was one day wandering along the shore, he 
saw a bird perched upon a bough projecting over the water. He 
attempted to kill it, but his arrow, till that time unerring, flew 
wide of the mark, and sunk in the sea. He determined to recover 
it, and swimming to the place where it fell, plunged to the bottom. 
Here, to his astonishment, be found himself in a small cottage ; a 
venerable man who was sitting in it, received him with a smile of 
paternal complacency, and addressed him :— " My son I welcome 
you to the habitation of your father. To obtain this interview, I 
directed all the circumstances which conspired to bring you hither. 
Here is your arrow, and here is an ear of corn, which you will find 
pleasant and wholesome food. I have watched the unkindness, 
both of your grandmother and brother ; while be lives, the world 
can never be peopled ; you must therefore take his life. When 
you return home, you must traverse the whole earth, collect all 
the flints into heaps which you find, and hang up all the bucks' 
horns ; these are the only things of which your brother is afraid, 
or which can make any impression on his body, which is made of 
flint. They will furnish you with weapons always at hand, 
wherever he may direct his course." 

Having received these, and other instructions from his father, 
the young man took his leave ; and returning again to the world, 
began, immediately, to obey his father's directions. This being 
done, the elder at length resolved on a hunting excursion. On 
their way to the hunting ground, he inquired of the younger, 
what were the objects of his greatest aversion ? He informed him 
there was nothing so terrific to him as beech boughs and bul- 
rushes ; and inquired in turn of Tliauwiskalaw what he most 
dreaded ? Ho answered, nothing so much as flint stones and bucks' 
horns, and that nothing else could injure him ; and that ho had 
lately been much annoyed by meeting with them wherever he 
went. Having arrived at their place of destination, the archer 
went alone in quest of game, leaving the other to attend to the 
menial occupations of erecting his hut, and preparing such other 
accommodations as he required. After an absence of some time, 
ho returned, exhausted with fatigue and hunger. Having taken a 



MYTHOLOGY OF THE IROQUOIS. 12# 



hearty repast, prepared by his brother, he retired to his hut to 
sleep. When he had fallen into a profound slumber, the younger 
kindled a large fire at its entrance ; after a time he found himself 
extremely incommoded by the heat, and the flinty materials of his 
body, expanded by its intensity, were exploding in large scales 
from his carcass. In a great rage, and burning with a desire of 
revenge, he hastened to a neighboring beech, armed himself with 
a large bough, and returned to chastise and destroy his brother. 
Finding that his repeated and violent blows had no effect upon his 
brother, who pelted him incessantly with fli nt stones, and belabored 
him with bucks' horns, by which the flinty scales from his body 
fell in copious showers, he betook himself to a neighboring marsh, 
where he supplied himself with bundles of bulrushes, and returned 
to the contest, but with the same want of success. Finding him- 
self deceived, and failing of his purpose, he sought safety in fligh^ 
As he fled, the earth trembled. A verdant plain, bounded by the 
distant ocean, lay before him ; behind him, the ground sunk in 
deep valleys and frightful chasms, or rose into lofty mountains and 
stupendous precipices. The streams ceased to roll in silence, and 
bursting their barriers, poured down the cliffs in cataracts, or 
foamed through their rocky channels to the ocean. 

The younger brother followed the fugitive with vigorous step, 
and wounded him continually with his weapons. At length, in a 
far distant region, beyond the savannahs of the south-west, he- 
breathed his last, and loaded the earth with his flinty form.* 

The great enemy of the turtle being destroyed, they came up out 
of the ground in the human form, and for some time multiplied in 
peace, and spread extensively over its surface. [The Oneidas 
show the precise spot where they say their ancestors came up.] 

The grandmother, roused to furious resentment for the loss of 
her darling son, resolved to be avenged. For many days successively 
she caused the rain to descend from the clouds in torrents, until 
the whole surface of the earth, and even the highest mountains, 
were covered. The inhabitants fled to their canoes, and escaped 
the impending destruction. The disappointed grandmother then 
caused the rains to cease, and the waters to subside ; the inhabi- 
tants returned to their former dwellings. She then determined to 

♦Supposed, by the Indians, to make the lofty range of the Rocky 
Mountains. 



124 NOTE I. 



effect her purpose in another manner, and covered the earth with 
a deluge of enow. To escape this new evil, they betook them- 
selves to their snow shoes, and thus eluded her vengeance. Cha- 
grined, at length, hy these disappointments, she gave up the hope 
of destroying the whole human race at once, and determined to 
wreak her revenge upon them in a manner which, although less 
violent, should be more efficacious. Accordingly, she has ever 
since been employed in gratifying her malignant disposition, by 
inflicting upon mankind all the various evils which are suffered in 
this present world. Taulonghyauwangoon, on the other hand, 
displays the infinite benevolence of his nature, by bestowing on 
the human race, the blessings they enjoy ; all of which, flow from 
his bountiful providence. [The name, literally translated, is, the 
holder, or supporter of the heavens. This is the being, who, in 
Indian speeches, by a corrupt translation, is called the Great Spirit 
or Good Spirit.] 



125 



NOTE II. 



MARRIAGE CEREMONY OF THE PAGAN. 

Given the author by Cornelius Cusick, Sachem of the Tuscaroras. 

The camp is in readiness for the Bride and Bridegroom, and thfr 
surrounding ground of the wigwam is prepared and made clean ; 
the pota and kettles are laid aside, and the ashes are swept clean 
from the hearth, and we now spread the robes of the bear, wolf 
and deer. A yell is now heard, which beckons the party to ap- 
proach, the reply of readiness is now given ; the whoop is heard;, 
they now approach at a distance, but by solemn steps, led by the 
Sachems of the party— immediately are following the Bride and 
the Bridegroom, all decked in the finest feathers of the birds of 
the forest. The young warriors following in their train, all decked 
with their sparkling jewelry. The party now arrives— the Bride 
and the G-room are requested to sit. The Bridegroom now sits 
down— the Bride now follows his movement. They now sit back 
to back. "Warrior, you have chosen your mate. You now vow to 
treat her with tenderness and care I (He signifies his assent by a 
bow.) Warrior! — Provide your wigwam with all the necessaries 
of life. Keep in abundance the meat of the Buffalo, the Deer and 
the Elk, and continue your kindness through life. In the name of 
the brave, you take this solemn vowl Remember, that if you vio- 
late this sacred vow, the tomahawk is your fate! 

Tou, woman ! have selected this warrior from amongst the 
braves. Do you accept him as your protector? (She gives a token 
of assent.) Be kind and faithful ! Stand by him in the hour of 
trouble, and above all keep your wigwam sacred! Remember, if 
you violate this sacred vow, the tomahawk is your fate! 



PAET II 



POEMS ON SCENES IN PALESTINE. 



ORIGIN OF POETRY, 

PARTICULARLY THAT OF THE HEBREW. 

A comprehensive and distinctive definition of 
Poetry, is very difficult, if not impossible to give. 
It may be denominated, The Art of pleasing, by 
harmonious numbers, those whom we desire 
to benefit. Many, styled poets, seem to have 
no other motive than to please, at any moral 
cost. But they are not nature's true poets. 
They do not copy after the great Original. 
They are not the children of the Inspires. 
The boundary, betwixt poetry and prose, cannot 
always be defined. They sometimes seem to 
amalgamate and run into each other. We oft- 
times hear, or read prose, that we are forced to 
call poetical. But poetry is mostly distinguished 
from prose, by a rythm, or harmonious numbers, 



128 ORIGIN OF POETRY.. 

regularly returning, or nearly so, — sometimes 
arranged in the form of parallelisms and antithe- 
sises, as in the Hebrew writings, and is generally 
characterized by more imagery and hyperbole 
than prose. 

The learned and philosophic Lord Bacon, 
•observes : " Poetry seems to endow human na- 
ture with that which lies beyond the power of 
bistory, and to gratify the mind with the shadow 
of things, when the substance cannot be had. 
* * * * cheers and refreshes it ; exhibiting 
things uncommon and varied, and full of vicissi- 
tude. As, therefore, poetry contributes, not 
only to pleasure, but to magnanimity and morals ; 
it is deservedly supposed to participate, in some 
good measure, of divine inspiration." This, he 
says, especially of epic poetry. How much more 
emphatically might he have asserted it of the 
lyric, the didactic, and the ode kinds. What 
distinguished geniuses has it employed, or as 
some would say — constituted, in both ancient 
and modern times ! Too much importance has 
not been, and perhaps, cannot be ascribed to it, 
since it has been ascertained, that about one- 
third of the Inspired Word is poetry, in the 
original Hebrew tongue. God has, therefore, 
by inspiring acts, stamped it with value inesti- 
mable. True poetry, therefore, dignities the 



ORIGIN OF POETRY. 129 

poetic man, as it makes him God-like, in a cer- 
tain sense. True poetry ought, therefore, to be 
pure, sanctified, elevating, ennobling, renovating, 
saving. So it is in the Bible. Where it is oth- 
erwise, it is bastard and adulterated, and should 
be otherwise named. Here, perhaps, is' the 
proper place to inquire, as to the origin of the 
Art. It has been maintained that, although 
man may have first spoken in prose, yet the 
earliest writings, or compositions of the heathen 
nations, were poetic. Among the Greeks, it is 
allowed to have been so. Their first composi- 
tions seem to have been songs, or ballads. If 
the Book of Job was the first book written, as 
by many, (and by the author,) it is believed to 
be, — then poetry is older than prose ; for that 
book is, evidently, a poem of a dramatic charac- 
ter. 

The Author of, and the Father of Poetry, is 
God, and not Homer, as is asserted. God the 
Author, not by creative act simply, — that which 
constructs the poetic intellect, — but as producer 
of poetry itself, and biassing the mind by inspi- 
ration, to write in poetic style. The voice that 
spake from the whirlwind to Job and his friends, 
spake poetry, and that of the sublimest kind. 
The ideas and the language were God's. They 
were above human power to conceive, or to 



130 OKIGm OF POETRY. 

express. It is the sublimity of God, expressed. 
Man recorded it, but God delivered it. May 
we not then safely aver, God to be a poet, and 
the first of poets ; the Exemplar of the art. 
This will appear further, when we ascertain that 
the tendency of the spirit of prophecy, is to 
produce poetry. All the prophecy of the Old 
Testament, with trifling exception, is uttered 
in this style. Were all the prophets natural 
poets? It would be presumption to assert it. 
Then it pleases God to speak in this style ; for 
the prophets " spake as they were moved by the 
Holy Ghost." To prove that the prophecies 
were poetry, we would say, they have all the 
characteristics of poetry, save rythm, or harmo- 
nious numbers; and this rythm, good scholars 
conclude, has been lost by changes in the accent, 
and pronunciation of the language by modern 
Jews. The writings abound in what are called 
parallelisms and antithesises, which are exclusive 
attributes of poetry — such as the following. 
Psalm ii : 34 : — 

1. Let us break their bands asunder 
And east away their cords from us. 

2. lie that sitteth in the Heavens shall laugh. 
The Lord shall have them in derision. 

Here, the idea expressed in the first line in 



ORIGIN OF POETRY. 131 

each verse, is extended to the second line in 
language synonymous — in a parallel form. 

As a specimen of the antithesis, take Prov. x : 
1,7:- 

A wise son maketh a glad father : 

But a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother. 

The memory of the just is blest : 

But the name of the wicked shall rot. 

Here, wise and foolish, and blest and rot, are 
antithesises to each other, — i. e., set one over 
against the other, as opposite to each. 

That sacred poetry is inspired, and that God 
is its author, I would refer to a few cases. 
Neither Isaac nor Jacob appears to be a natural 
poet : yet under inspiration, they utter poetry. 
The latter, in Gen. 49, prophesying of Judah's 
future condition, says : — 

Binding his foal unto the vine, 
And his ass's colt unto the choice vine ; 
He washed his garments in wine, 
And his clothes in the blood of grapes. 

This is poetic imagery, and even in the Eng- 
lish translation, is almost poetic harmony, and 
contains a beautiful parallel. 

These, then, being the acknowledged attri- 



132 ORIGIN OF POETRY. 

butes of poetry, together with the easy, harmo- 
nious flow and imagery, which a good ear and 
eye can distinguish, even now, in the Hebrew 
writings — we shall be led to the conclusion above 
made, that God inspires the spirit and letter of 
poetry. For further proof, let us notice the fact, 
that several personages in the New Testament age, 
utter poetic prophecy; or prophecy in poetry. 
Zacharias,* at the birth of John, his son, as soon 
as his miraculous dumbness is removed, breaks 
forth into poetic strains : — 

He hath visited and redeemed his people : 
He hath raised up an horn of salvation. 

So, also, Elizabeth, his wife, by the Holy 
Spirit, exclaims : — 

Blessed art thou among women : 
And blessed the fruit of thy womb. 

So Mary, under the same influence : — 

He hath filled the hungry with good things : 
And the rich he hath sent empty away. 

And Simeon, alike influenced, exclaims : — 

A light to lighten the Gentiles : 
And the glory of thy people Israel. 

♦Lukei: 1. 



ORIGIN OF POETRY. 133 

The angels, at the birth of the Saviour, break 
forth and sing a prophetic song, as it were, fresh 
from the land of poetry, even heaven ; inspired, 
doubtless, by the same spirit. The wicked king, 
Saul, when moved by the Inspirer, spake im- 
promptu in poetry ; so that it was said, " Is Saul 
also among the prophets?" So the deceitful 
Balaam is constrained to utter poetic prophecy 
concerning Jacob, then present, and the future 
prosperity of the nation, in very beautiful strains : 

How shall I curse whom God hath not cursed? 
How shall I defy whom God hath not defied ? 
For from the top of the rocks I see him, 
. And from the hills I behold him. 

These were doubtless pronounced in regular 
poetic numbers before the Hebrew accent and 
pronunciation were lost or perverted by the 
points of Masorites. 

Now it would be presumptuous to assert that 
they wrote or spoke as natural poets, the thoughts 
alone having been inspired. There is no evidence 
that Zacharias, Elizabeth, Mary and Simeon were 
poets like David, but as soon as inspired, they 
speak poetry. Does not the Holy Spirit then 
inspire or dictate poetic language and direct the 
angels to speak in such language ? I cannot avoid 
the conclusion that it was so. God, therefore, 

M2 



134 ORIGIN OF POETRY. 

has a taste or relish for such ; makes poetry, is a 
poet in his nature ; is the father of poets, is the 
first poet, and poetry originates in Him, and was 
born, as it were, in heaven. Dignified then is 
the employment of the legitimate bard. How 
happy to have been like David, who was both 
natural and inspired poet ! I do not hold that 
every good natural poet of modem time is sacred- 
ly inspired, but that his genius is of God's spe- 
cial creation — making God the author. 

Hebrew poetry is divided by writers into Di- 
dactic, Lyric, Prophetic and Parabolic. Of the 
didactic kind is the 119th Psalm and 51st Psalm. 
They are designed to teach and instruct. The 
scriptures abound in this style. Hence Paul ex- 
horts in Col. iii. 16, " Teaching and admonishing 
one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual 
songs. David's poetry is chiefly lyric, designed 
for devotional praise. Proverbs are parabolic — 
are sentences, designed to affect and move and 
persuade by short sayings, antithesis comparison 
and hyperbole. Of the prophetic class, speci- 
mens have already been given. 

Noble and valuable then is poesy. God indites 
it, Heaven uses it, the Bible is (one-third) com- 
posed of it. Christ sang it with his disciples at 
the close of the first sacramental service. Angels 



ORIGIN OF POETRY. 135 

also use it when they descend to earth and when 
they reascend ; and the speech of heaven, as far 
as revealed, partakes largely of that element, 
leading us to the conclusion that when we reach 
that happy place (which, through grace, may all 
my readers attain) we shall all be practical poets. 
Is not heaven itself the truth, not the fiction, of 
poetry f Let me, in conclusion, observe that this 
style of writing is rising in estimation. We can 
not have a social or conventional gathering with- 
out its introduction. In every jubilee we must 
have it. College Commencement is jejune with- 
out it. And could we worship the Great Inspirer 
well without it ? It breathes in the Sanctuary, 
it talks by our fireside, in our Sabbath schools, 
and must preside at the piano, or that instrument 
tinkles to no purpose. So valuable have poetic 
compositions been estimated that a certain mon- 
arch said, " Let me make the ballads of a nation 
and I can revolutionize it." 

This short treatise is written rather for the 
unlearned reader than for the sage and scholar, 
who mainly know all these facts, and to remind 
the reader of the Bible, that he is a reader of 
poetry when he peruses Solomon, David, Job and 
the Prophets. 



136 



POETRY ORIGINATED IN HEAVEN. 

" The morning stars sang together" — Job xxxviii : 7. 

Sweet Poesy of birth Divine, 

Was born in holy heaven ; 
Her glowing speech and living line 

On the Jasper walls are graven. 

The Father owns her rapturous sway, 

Angels adoring serve her, 
And tune her ever-flowing lay 

To songs of melting fervor. 

To shepherds tented on the plains, 
For Christ in Bethlehem's manger, 

The angels chant her noblest strains, 
To announce the heavenly stranger. 

She breathed upon the Prophet's ears 

Of Judah's favored nation, 
And downward through successive years, 

They sang by inspiration. 



POETKY OKIGENATED IK HEAVEN. 137 

On youthful David's lyral string 
She placed her glowing fiuger, 

And ever-during numbers ring, 
From the hand of Israel's singer. 

And late in Evangelic days, 
When Watts takes up the lyre, 

Say not that poets' moving lays 
Have not that Living Fire. 

From Him who gave a heavenly birth 

To that poetic spirit, 
May bards unnumbered here on earth 

That heavenly fire inherit. 

In blissful ages yet to be, 

Where sin invadeth never, 
In Heaven shall sing sweet Poesy 

Forever, and forever. 



138 



THE OVERTHROW OF SODOM. 

On the plains of rich Mamre, in Hebron of old, 
'Midst his herds and his flocks, of a number -un- 
told; 
As at noon, in the door of his humble abode. 
The Patriarch sat in contemplative mood, — 
A trio of angels attracted his gaze, 
And he ran to salute them with reverent grace ; 
And brought them to sit and dine at his board, 
And gave them the best which his hand could 
afford. 

But little, as they ate his fare, 
Were Abram and his spouse aware, 
While to their guests thus hospit-able,. 
They feasted angels at their table. 
But let us not in skeptic mood, 
Query how angels eat our food ; 
Nor doubt if by creative skill, 
God can imbody them at will : 
Nor once indulge the low conceit 
That angels human senses cheat; 



THE OVERTHROW OF SODOM. 139 

Seeming to be of form material, 
While truly, formless and ethereal. 
But 'neath the shade, as Abram stood, 
*Grave converse with his guests ensued, 
For angels can in cases meet, 
Both walk and talk — as well as eat — 
One of the three — a wondrous One, 
(God's own anticipated Son,) 
Revealed himself Divine, and spake : 
** This covenant with you I make — 
** Sarah, thy wife, shall have an heir ; 
" Believe the marvel I declare." 
— Ye dames of modern age, could you, 
As listening Sarah dared to do, 
Laugh at the priceless promise given 
By God's ambassador, from Heaven ? 
Oould doubt the power, dispute the will 
Of God to work a miracle, 
And give the childless spouse a son 
When o'er maternal period gone ? 
But marvel, listening dames, ye may, 
That she mendaciously should say, 
I did not laugh — should thus deny, 
When heavenly guests were sitting by. 



140 THE OVEKTHKOW OF SODOM. 

What though she saw with human ken, 
And took them to be only men, 
Her folly she could ill conceal 
From One who can all thoughts reveal : 
Great marvel, too, she was forgiven, 
And made an honored one of Heaven. 

Finished their meal and their repose, 
The angel visitants arose, 
And turned their eye and shaped their way, 
Where Sodom's distant region lay. 
Conducted by good Abram's hand, 
They journeyed toward the guilty land. 
One of the trio paused, and stood, 
And spake, revealed as Abram's God : 
" Behold ! thou knowest that city, where 
a Thy brother Lot and kindred are ? 
" That Sodom, God will overthrow, 
" 'Tis fitting thou shouldst timely know ; 
" I go its wickedness to prove — 
" Bruited as great in Heaven above." 
Saith Abram : " Mercy is thy delight, 
" Shall not the Lord of all do right ? 
" O, listen to the plea I make, 
" Spare it for fifty righteous' sake !" 



THE OVERTHROW OF SODOM. 141 

u I grant," the angel said, " thy prayer 

" If fifty righteous souls be there. 

" Should forty such the city have ?" 

" For forty, I the city save." 

" If thirty righteous bless the land ?" 

" For thirty's sake the place shall stand." 

" For twenty let my prayer be heard." 

" For twenty righteous souls 'tis spared." 

" And now, O grant my final plea, 

" If in that city ten should be ?" 

" If in it I but ten can find, 

" I'll grant thy prayer," the Lord rejoined. ' 

"We cease — I urge my journey down, 

" To search the ill-reputed town, 

" "Whose tale of guilt, by angels given, 

" Hath waxen loud, and mov'd all Heaven." 

He said ; and on his mission went, 

While Abram turned and sought his tent. 

The sun o'er the mountains had gently gone down, 
When Lot out of Sodom came sad and alone ; 
And vexed in his spirit, sat down at the gate, 
And thought on his case, and repented — too late, 
His choice of removal to Sodomah's vale. 

N 



142 THE OVERTHROW OF SODOM. 

O'er his household corrupted, compelled to be- 
wail — 
His daughters involved in the vice of the town ; 
Their conscience polluted and stupid his own — 
When clear to his vision two strangers draw 
Tho' verily angels, yet men they appear ; [near. 
Whom gravely saluting, he welcomed to share 
A lodge in his dwelling, a feast on his fare. 
And kindly persuading drew forth from the street, 
From the Sodomites' gaze to his quiet retreat. 

Nor passed the beauteous guests unseen, 
A lecherous throng with purpose mean, 
Gathered and pressed hard on the door, 
Bidding old Lot, with clamorous roar, 
" Resign the strangers to their lust.' 1 
(O, shame abominable and curst !) 
Refusing whom, they vow to kill 
Lot, the opposer of their will ; 
Whom, (rescuing Lot with angel might,) 
They smote with total loss of sight, 
And forced the rabble, great and small, 
To grope their passage by the wall. 

Base Sodomah, now thou hadst filled up thy cup,- 
Thy days of probation were numbers quite up ; 



THE OVERTHROW OF SODOM. 143 

The invisible Searcher had entered to see, 
And found but one righteous abiding in thee. 

'Twas morn — and the sun came forth in his glory, 
The towers of the city gleamed bright in his rays : 
Not a swain or fair maiden, nor youthful nor 

hoary, 
Dreamed aught that Jehovah had numbered 

their days — 
Nor Admah, Gomorrah, Zeboim nor Zoar, 
Foreboded the day they should revel no more, 
Nor leave one survivor their fate to deplore. 
u Up, up !" was the cry of the angels to Lot, 
" Go tell all thy kindred, and linger you not, 
" Jehovah hath sent us your place to destroy !" 
He went — and they laughed at his crazy employ ; 
There moved not a son-in-law, daughter — not one, 
But bade their old father to " let them alone, 
"And back to his meddlesome guests to be gone." 
Thus impious scoffers now mock at our Lord — 
Thus treat his ambassadors, preaching his word. 

But while they linger at their call, 

(The husband, spouse, two daughters — all, 

A half-believing trembling band,) 



144 THE OVERTHROW OF SODOM. 

The gentle angels seize their hand, 

And lead them hastily along 

Thro' crowded streets and gateway strong ; 

"When he who searched the city through, 

Immanuel great rejoined the two, 

And pointed their way to the mountain brow, 

Safe from the threatened storm below, 

And bade them for their life to flee — 

Nor turn their lingering eye to see — 

Nor pause upon the accursed plain, 

Lest they be numbered with the slain, 

Whom Lot entreating as the Lord, 

Besought with supplicating word — 

" Not to yon mountain, lest we die, 

" To Bela's city let us fly ; 

" 'Tis little, see ! — too small to share 

" Thy coming j udgment. That now spare." 

I grant thy prayer, Immanuel said, 

Let Bela stand till ye are sped. 

In future, Bela too, shall fall ; 

These guilty towns, I've doom'd them all. 

Haste, haste, ye now, I cannot do 

This work till I have sheltered you. 

They fled. But, lo ! the mother fell ; 



THE OVERTHROW OF SODOM. 145 

She turned and loathed to bid farewell 
To Sodom vile, when death ensued. 
And she, transformed, a pillar stood, 
A form bituminous of salt, 
Dread monument of reckless fault ! 

The hour had come. Immanuel waved his hand, 
Jehovah saw it — angels, at his command, 
Flew quick, and thunders muttered their reply ; 
Tempests awaiting, veiled the blushing sky — 
Lightnings awoke and flash' d their sympathy ; 
Dull Earthquake heard and rumbled her assent : 
Volcano roused, her crusted craters rent — 
Fierce Whirlwind came, and bore an angel form, 
Terrific Leader of the brooding storm ! 
And hell, deep mustering, upward sent his fiends, 
To shriek their requiems with the whistling winds! 
Birds with affright, and beasts instinctive fled ; 
And forests waived in token of their dread. 
Now starting from his couch, to lounge no more, 
The astounded reveler quakes and trembles sore ! 
The adulterer, adulteress, and the idolater ; 
The bibler, gambler, thief and murderer, 
In terror feel, a God of vengeance near ! 

N2 



146 THE OVERTHROW OF SODOM. 

The defilers of mankind, that sightless crew, 
By angels struck, still grope the city through. 
The king of Sodom trembles on his throne — 
Consults his counselors ; counsel they have none : 
He seeks his gods — his gods are overthrown ; — 
But, hark ! what means that simultaneous cry ? 
All Sodom now forebodes her destiny. [fly ! 

Through her dark streets red bolts of lightning 
And gleaming meteors burst upon their heads : 
Volcanic streams pour upward from their beds ; 
And earthquakes from their fiery flood beneath, 
Through opening mouths sulphureous vapors 

breathe ; 
Which touched by sparks electric blaze and burn, 
And with red cinders mingling, earthward turn, 
And pour on man and dwelling, tower and spire, 
From God in Heaven, a withering rain of fire ! 
Ah, hear that wail I The Sodomites expire ! 
And all that thought, and breathed, and sported 

on the plain — 
Admah, Gomorrah, Zeboim, are all slain — 
To curse, to rail, to revel not again. 
Thus just and true and righteous is our God ; 
Who makes the wicked feel his direful rod : 



THE OVERTHROW OF SODOM. 147 

Who sits sole sovereign on his awful throne — 
Whose depth of wisdom man hath never known ; 
Whose views of sin are keener than our own ! 
But, see! what frighted fugitives are those ? t 
With daughters twain an aged father goes ; 
Forth from yon city where he sought repose. 

Sad remnant they forlorn and poor, 
Yet monument of sparing love — 
Their fortunes lost, their friends no more, 
They seek the mountain pass above. 
Behind them rolls the burning surge ; 
The earth dissolves beneath their feet — 
And as they reach the mountain verge, 
The plain becomes a fiery sheet, 
And, lo ! their refuge city Zoar, 
Sinks down to shelter them no more. 

— Sad day for Lot. Thro' eager love of gain ; 
He chose the rich but sin-pervaded plain : 
Then changed the shepherd's for a city life, 
And ruined fortune, children and his wife ! 

But mark on the hill-side good Abram again ; 
Young morn has awaked him from a pillow of 
care, 



148 THE OVERTHROW OF SODOM. 

To gaze with emotion on Jordan's wide plain — 
To inquire how the angel had dealt with his prayer. 

Alas ! with a groan of lament he beheld, 
The soil of his brother's adoption no more ; 
The cities were buried — their occupants fled, 
The plain was a lake and the mountain its shore. 

A smoke like the cloud of a furnace outpouring, 
Rose dark o'er the valley, once fertile and fair ; 
The fate of old Lot and his friends now deploring, 
Not one, he exclaims, at request of my prayer? 

But lo ! — a cloudy chariot looming, 
Fraught with tokens bright and cheer : 
Abram, thy angel friends are coming — 
They come to banish doubt and fear. 

They speak thy prayerful wish is given ; 
Lot has survived and not alone : 
But guilty great, in sight of Heaven, 
Sodom the vile is overthrown. 

Querists — do you doubt the story ? 
Visit Sodoma's briny lake — 
Mark the signs that rise before you ; 
There the faithful witness take. 



THE OVERTHROW OF SODOM. 149 

Note the remnants of volcano, 
Bordering on the Asphaltic tide ; 
Ruined cities rise to gain you, 
Gain your faith — your doubts decide. 

Read the Saviour's witness added, 
" As it was in Sodom's fall ; [wedded, 

" They bought, they sold, they built, they 
" But fire from Heaven consumed them all." 

Turn not back from your profession ; 
Remember Lot's presumptuous wife : 
Read his note of that occasion — 
Skeptic read and cease thy strife. 

More lenient at the Grand Occasion, 
Shall be the doom of Sodom's race, 
Than fate of' all of every nation, 
Who know, oppose, and hate his grace. 

Tho' milder be her condemnation, 
Still she feels Jehovah's ire ; 
'Tis written in his Revelation, 
Sodom endures eternal fire. 

Mark the dread asseveration ! 
Weigh it reader — weigh it well ; 
Art thou in this condemnation ? 
Turn — repent — there is a hell ! 



150 



CHRIST AT THE GRAVE OF LAZARUS. 

They gathered round the brother's rural grave, 
The marble slab lay closely on the cave : 
Unseal the stone, the weeping Saviour said : 
The stone removed revealed the sleeping dead. 
Oh ! what a varying, wondering group was here, 
Angels and men and fiends and He whom devils 

fear. 
O could we mortals see, as Christ the Omniscient 

One, ^ . 

Jehovah's burning, spaiiless eye, broad beaming 

down, /V 

Watching the plan unfolding to prove his high 

design, 
To show to faithless man the Saviour was divine : 
Could we but see — Ah ! who could see this God 

and live, 
Yet seeing, who to man the painting true can give? 
The world, the Heavens, the infernals, and the 

Creator God, 
The Holy Ghost, spectators here, where the Re- 
deemer stood. 



CHRIST AT THE GRAVE OF LAZARUS. 151 

He gravely stood, majestic, lowly, meek, [cheek, 
The tears of sympathy still coursing down his 
He inly groaned, then raise d to Heaven his eye, 
While Heaven responded to his heaving sigh. 
" Father !" he said, " I thank thy holy name ; 
" I raise this prayer to show from whom I came, 
" I know thou hear'st me alway — let these see 
" I have commission, power, and all from thee." 
Then bending low, with mighty voice he said: 
" Lazarus, come forth ! forsake thy rocky bed !" 
— Wonder ye heavens, and thou inferior earth ! 
The dead, the sheeted Lazarus came forth ! 
What joy, what awe possessed the varied crowd! 
Again he spake : " Unbind the shroud, 
" And let the imprisoned death-bound captive go. 
" Ye sorrowing sisters ; as I said — I do, 
" Your much loved Lazarus, I restore to you." 
Then, with the waiting twelve, the Lord withdrew 
— Meekly the three to their loved home retiring ; 
Mutely the wondering crowd dispersed admiring : 
The angel visitants returned to Heaven adoring ; 
The hosts of hell abashed sank down deploring ! 
— O Earth, adore this Saviour, wonderful and 
good — [God ! 

And own he loved, and spake, and acted as a 



152 



JACOB AND ESAU. 

"Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated." — Rom. ix. 13. 

Isaac was old, and blind, and partial too, 
And petted a son — as oft the aged do. 
Esau, my son, he called — and Esau came — 
Go to the field, I want a little game ; 
Take now thy quiver, seize thy pliant bow ; 
(They had no rifles then as hunters now ;) 
Take me some venison — I'm an aged man, 
May leave you soon, make all the haste you can ; 
For while I taste the savory food I love, 
I've something for thee — a blessing from above ! 
Unworthy Esau, grovelling and low, 
Had fixed his heart on pleasures here below ; 
He once had sold, and cunning Jacob bought 
His princely birthright, for a thing of nought ; 
For one choice meal to glut his appetite — 
Reckless exchanged his primogenial right, 
Jehovah saw, and knew the wily plan, 



JACOB AND ESAU. 153 

To turn the blessing to another man : 
His was the purpose, ere the world begun, 
To give the blessing to the younger son. 
Esau was hated, and deserved to be ; 
Jacob was loved, though far from faultless he. 
Unwise Rebekah, far too worldly wise, 
Beguiled her favorite son to seize the prize — 
Clad him in Esau's garb, and on his skin 
Put furs of goats, and sent him slily in, 
To ape the hairy Esau — Jacob's brother, 
And turn the proffered blessing to another. 
Isaac was duped, and gave the youngest son • 
The gift he purposed for the elder one. 
Alas ! our race with innocence unblest ; 
Sin yet pervades the wisest and the best. 
Esau compliant with his father's wish, [dish ; 
Went forth, and caught, and brought the savory 
But found, alas ! the promised blessing gone, 
And wept as wretched, ruined and undone ! 
And cried, "My father! is there not one more, 
" One equal blessing for thy son in store ? 
Who, trembling, said : (he saw the high decree,) 
I've called him blest — and blessed shall he be ; 
There is a gift — a minor boon for you : 



154: JACOB AND ESAU. 

" Fatness of earth, enriched with softening dew;" 
To Esau's race mere earthly wealth is given — 
To Jacob's seed inheritance in heaven ; 
In Jacob's line shall all the earth be blest : 
In Christ, his Son, the righteous shall have rest. 
— Blame not the Author of the wise decree, 
But man alone, accountable and free. 






155 



"He Hangeth the Earth upon nothing." . 

Job xxvi: 7. 

Afar, afar, beyond the date of days ; 

When none but angels sang their Maker's praise. 

The great Eternal, infinite I Am, 

The Self-existent, whence all beings came, 

Took seat amidst the universal world, 

And saw, upon his azure sheet unfurled, 

A space appropriate for another sphere, 

From comet, sun, and planet orbit clear ; 

And purpose took to place a circle there, 

And hang a world out 'mid the shoreless air : 

So on the Kalends of Eternity, 

Fore-named and fixed a certain cycle day, 

Bade angels, seraphs, cherubim to note 

The date thereon, his faithful fingers wrote ; 

And after ages numberless unrolled, 

Arrived at length the era he foretold. 

And then again, He assumed the starry throne, 

Nor sat alone. His uncreated Son 

Sat on his right ; the equal Lord'confessed : 



156 HE HANGETH THE EARTH UPON NOTHING. 

To share his glory — utter his behest ! 

Now at His word, the summons wide is given, 

When forth there come, from portals bright of 

Heaven, 
Its countless hosts and stand in circles round. 
He spake, and echo bore the grateful sound 
From sphere to sphere, through all creation's 

bound : 
" Stand forth from nought, another sun-lit world ! 
" And be it in appropriate orbit whirled : 
" The future home of creatures rational — 
" Brought into being at their Maker's call !" 
It came ; obedient to the mandate given, 
And hung on nothing 'mid the lights of heaven ; 
Angels assumed the deed upon their tongue, 
And to the listening stars their anthems sung : 
While harps symphonious swelled the music high, 
And thrilled the worlds with rapturous min- 
strelsy ! 

And yearly now, forbid not bard to say, 
The angels fill the starry orchestra, 
And to their Maker sing the wondrous birth 
Of this, our beauteous year-revolving earth. 



157 



" AND THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 

Matt, xxv : 10. 
" He that shutteth and no man openeth." — Eev. iv": *J. 

There is a royal door and hinged with gold, 
Which none on earth can fasten or unfold ; 
Open to pilgrims known of heavenly birth, 
But closed to all the groveling ones of earth ; 
There is a Mighty One, to whom is given 
All power on earth — and all in glorious Heaven, 
Who, tho' once rich, tho' high and nobly born, 
Chose to be poor on earth, despised, forlorn ; 
To win us wealth unsearchable, and bliss : 
To gain us life unending, gave up his — 
Conquered grim death, the grave, and led 
Captivity released from Satan's thralldom dread. 
This is the Builder, Keeper of the door, 
That opens now, — soon shuts to ope no more ! 
— And who on earth shall venture to gainsay ? 
To force the door that guards the Heavenly way? 
Who dare proclaim the door shall ope for all, 

02 



158 AND THE DOOR WAS SHUT. 

That hate, despise and disbelieve the call ? 
Once shut against thy feet, against thy cry — 
Thy joys must end, thy hope forever die ; 
Thou shalt lift up thy burning eyes in hell, 
In vain to Abraham thy condition tell — 
'Twixt him and thee a moveless gulf is placed, 
Which never has been, never can be passed. 
Thus shut from Heaven, thus in hell confined, 
O, woe untold ! O, misery undefined ! 
No strains of psalmody, no voice of prayer, 
Nor stirring speech of minister is there ; 
No friend shall cheer thee in thy drear abode, 
Nor group attend thee to the house of God : 
Nor to thy cheerless, ever-during home, 
Shall Holy Ghost or bleeding Jesus come. 
Beset with hypocrites, and unbelieving men,* 
Murderers and thieves, adulterers, unclean, f 
Drunkards and liars, J scoifers most profane, 
Oppressors and covetous, abominable and vain ; 

♦Matt, xxiv: 51. "Shall appoint his portion with hypocrites 
and unbelievers: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth." 

t Rev. xxii : 15. "For without are dogs, and sorcerers, and 
whoremongers, and murderers, and idolaters." 

J Rev. xxi: 8. 'But . the unbelieving, and the abominable, 
and murderers, * * * and all liars, shall have their part in the 
lake which burnetii with tire and brimstone.'' 



AND THE DOOR WAS SHUT. 159 

Thy tyrant Satan, who his victim binds, 
Consigned to tortures by malignant fiends, 
The undying worm still knawing thee within, 
Conscience full roused, reproaching thee for sin. 

He that once opened now shutteth up the door, 
And thou'lt return nor ask admittance more ; 
Thus shut from Heaven, thus in hell confined, 
O, woe untold ! O, misery undefined ! 



160 



GREEKS SEEKING JESUS. 

Then came certain Greeks and said to Philip of Beth- 
saida, Sirs, we -would see Jesus." 

To Philip of Bethsaida 
A band of Grecians spake 

With hearts sincere and ready, 
A high request to make. 

There is in circulation, 

And wide the tidings spread, 

You have in Judah's nation 
A power to raise the dead. 

And, sirs, 'twould greatly please us 
To see with our own eyes, 

This wonder-working Jesus 
In whom this virtue lies. 

This power to cure diseases, 
Restore the deaf, the blind, 

The troubled spirit eases, 

And frees the tortured mind. 



GREEKS SEEKING JESUS. 161 

We want to hear this Teacher 
Who shows the unerring way, 

Whereby each fallen creature 
Can find eternal day. 

We need this wise Physician 
On whom the wretched call, 

Of every sad condition, 
And he relieves them all. 

And has he made provision, 

Ye friends of Jesus, say, 
To save the blinded Grecian 

From sin's destructive sway ? 

Yes, — Welcome to this Jesus, 

Gentiles of every name, 
From all our sins he frees us 

And hides our guilty shame. 

And, what can more delight us, 

There is prepared a place 
Where Jesus will admit us 

To see Him face to face. 



162 



COME YE TO THE MARRIAGE. 

A wedding — rare, Inspiring theme, 
For all of weddings talk, or dream, 
Has been foretold for future day — 
What time hereafter none can say ; 
And matter marvelous to know, 
The bride is chosen from below. 
And He to whom the bride is given, 
Is heir of all — on earth — in Heaven, 
And, wondrous truth to be recited, 
Meanest of mortals are invited, 
And in the splendid nuptial hall, 
Sufficient room is found for all. 
Yet all the bidden are not expected — 
And all the called are not accepted ; 
The door stands open night and day, 
And all prepared to enter — may : 
Yet none are known to enter in, 
But chosen of Heaven and born again. 
Through my inspired perspective glass, 
I saw the royal wedding pass — 



COME YE TO THE MARRIAGE. 163 

The Bridegroom conies with grand procession, 

With lamps denoting fair profession ; 

And while the pearly door is turning, 

They enter in with lamps all burning — 

The spacious hall is thronged with guests, 

My eye upon the Bridegroom rests. 

But e'er the nuptial scene is o'er, 

I hear loud rapping at the door, 

Large trains of would-be guests appear ; 

The Bridegroom's voice within I hear, 

" Depart presumptuous, I know you not, 

" Your lamps have long ago gone out. 

" The door of Heaven shall never turn 

" For those who have no oil to burn." 



164 



JOHN IN VISION. 

I saw in vision, Heaven open wide 
Her pearly gate, and forth there came a tide 
Of rapturous music poured from harps of gold, 
With voices loud, of multitudes untold, [blood, 
Praising the Lamb who bought them with his 
And for their sakes the crimsoned winepress trod : 
I saw within a glittering emerald throne, 
And One who sat in majesty thereon, 
And by him stood the wounded Lamb of God, 
And lowly there the ransomed millions bowed ; 
Of every nation, kindred, people, tongue, 
And to the two their equal praises sung : 
Clothed with their blood-washed robes, they cry 

aloud, 
" Salvation to Him enthroned, the mighty God ; 
" Salvation to the Lamb, alike enthroned, 
" Who bore our sins and for our guilt atoned." 
When, lo ! around the throne the angelic throng 
Gathered, and bowed, and poured their joyous 

song, 



john in vision. 165 

Crying, "Amen ! Blessing and praise in Heaven, 
" Wisdom and glory, might and thanks be given, 
" Honor and praise, and equal majesty, 
" To God and to the Lamb forever be !" 
So spake all Heaven, and so let all that live, 
Homage to Christ as to the Father give. 



166 



VISIT OF MOSES AND ELIAS 

FROM HEAVEN TO EARTH. 

Matt, xvii : 1. Mark ix: 2. Lukeix: 28. 

The Muse compliant with the Book Divine, 

Assumes to sing of favored Palestine, 

Of angel visits from their native skies, 

To warn the reckless— bless the good and wise. 

— 'Twas when Immanuel dwelt his term on earth, 

That King of Glory, Prince of Heavenly birth, 

The Father summoned to his peaceful throne, 

Two happy spirits ransomed by his Son : 

" Fly, Gabriel, to the mansions* of the seers, 

" And hither bring two saints of by-gone years ! 

" Meek Moses, leader of my Israel, • 

"Elijah bold, and faithful to foretehV , 

— The message hi the angel bosom burned, 

So swift he went, but leisurely returned ; 

For with him came the earth-born prophets 

named, 
Once famed below, but more in Heaven famed ; 

* *' In my Father's house are many manalonB."— John sir: 2. 



VISIT OF MOSES AND ELTAS. 167 

Low bent their forms before the Eternal One — 
Low fell their crowns before the gilded throne, 
u Go now," he said, " to yon rebellions earth, 
" Where Christ, my Son, hath gained a lowly 

birth : 
" As sought by Him, I now commission you, 
" To hold with Him a needed interview ; 
" The place assigned is on a mountain brow, 
" His advent thither will the spot pre-show." 
— The high behest they readily obey, 
And joyful earthward wend their downward way ; 
Nor burdened felt, nor deem'd the task enforced," 
But cheerful sped and lovingly discoursed. 
Most grand their errand, honored their employ ! 
Heightening their love and perfecting their joy. 

— Their sage discourse, while on their starry way, 
The Muse assumes, and labors to convey, 
Thus meekly Moses to Elijah spake : 
" Sublime the journey we are called to make — 
" The task too great for Gabriel to perform, 
" Assigned to you and me — a moth, a worm — 
" A mission rare, and like the parties, great ! 
" From God, the Father, to the Incar-nate. 



168 VISIT OF MOSES AND ELI AS. 

" Were not, 'tis true, Messiah speaks as man, 
" Counsels and feels as none but mortals can — 
"Our words were useless, and our wisdom 

naught. 
"Who treats with God, or spans his mighty 

thought ? 
" He is the ' Shiloh' of the Almighty God ; 
"He is the 'Root of Jesse'— He the 'Rod,' 
" 'Tis He, who on his shoulders freely bears 
" The woes of all, and therefore wisely shares, 
" The nature, passions, weaknesses of all ; 
" And saves the lost that heed his gracious call. 
" The mighty God, the Wonderful, Everlasting 

One: 
" The Counselor, and Prince appointed to atone ; 
" The Mediator — God, as well as man — 
"The Priest and Prophet of the Glorious Plan." 
To whom Elijah answered in accord : 
(Revering great the Penman of that Word, 
Proclaim'd on Sinai by the mouth of God ; 
Who led his people through the parting flood ; 
Who from the rock drew water with his rod, 
And by the guiding of an Unseen Hand, 
Found them a rest in Canaan's promised land.) ' 



VISIT OF MOSES AND ELIAS. 169 

" He is that Prophet, greater far than thou, 
" In Him the types have their fulfillment now : 
" He is the end, the antitype of all, 
" Ordained to raise the ruins of the Fall : . 
" He is that Lamb we anciently foresaw — ' 
" The soul and substance of the ritual law ; 
" The second Adam of our fallen race, 
" And we alike are debtors to his grace. 
" O, joy untold, this Lamb of God to meet ! 
"I crave the hour we place us at his feet." 

Thus sweet communed these delegates of Heaven, 
Thus bore the embassy, God himself had given ; 
So wrapt their thoughts by ministry so great, 
Of scheme sublime — of Heaven's Potentate — 
They noticed slight the measureless array, 
Of glorious worlds that throng' d their downward 

way— 
Of suns on suns that lighted, glow'd, and burned; 
Systems unknown that round their centers turn' d, 
Upheld by Him, who early placed them there, 
And Him the object of their mission rare. 
Ah ! how could souls with such an Infinite, 
In speech confer or hold covention fit ? 

P2 



170 VISIT OF MOSES AND ELIAS. 

For spirits they, could better spirits know, 
Than when incased in bodies here below — 
Could clearer see the Deity in man, 
Than gross-imbodied sinful mortals can ; 
The one, with body spiritually arrayed — 
The other's form on Pisgah's mountain laid.* 
Now in their speed they reach our guilty world, 
Which spared in mercy, still in orbit whirled, 
Now catch a glimpse of Tabor's shady brow ; 
Now mark four Hebrews climb the mountain 

slow — 
Their leader, grave, majestic, meek in mien, 
With eye upraised to watch the mountain scene, 
And guiding thither kindly, wearily, 
The admiring, wondering, trusting three ; 
And gain they soon the fore-appointed grove, 
And rest them there in nature's cool alcove. 
'Twas such a grove as suited well the scene, 
Where Heaven with earth-born stoops to inter- 
vene — 
Where oak and cypress bend their reverent 

boughs, 
And shady cedars stand in natural rows ; 



* Moses "waB disembodied; Elijah probably spiritually inibodled, 
not to mortalB visible. 



VISIT OF MOSES AND ELIAS. 171 

Where verdant carpets clothed the circle-space, * 

And floral beauties graceful interlace, 

There mountain birds of varied hue and wing, 

Miraculous sweet their choral anthems sing ;* 

The noisy winds are lulled to breezes soft, 

Bright clouds expand their drapery aloft ; 

But when Messiah thither bends his way, 

The cheerful songsters check their melody — 

The breezes cease, and pause the whispering firs, 

Nor aught of man or animal bestirs. 

For lowly bent with importunity, 

He utters prayer with his selected three — 

Peter, and James, and his beloved John, 

Bow down in grave and cordial unison, 

And long, and earnestly, and tearful there, 

He lifted up at intervals his prayer ; 

Till tired, his brethren sank in slumber down, 

And left their Lord to supplicate alone. 

Meanwhile the prophets, still invisible, 

Draw near and seek their mission to fulfill, 

* Tabor is a conical mountain on the south side of the plain 
Esdrael— wooded on the sides with fir, oak and cypress and other 
trees, clothed with verdure, is frequented by various and numer- 
ous birds — partridges were seen thereon, and a wild boar. On the 
top there is a plain of some small extent, and the people speak of 
the ruins of three buildings, held to be those of three tabernacles 
— of Moses, Elias and Christ. It was once more wooded, and is of 
tedious ascent.— By a Traveler from Oneida County, N. Y. 



172 VISIT OF MOSES AND ELIAS. 

- His prayer they hear, behold the prostrate four,, 
And their Redeemer silently adore ; 
When quick they find, astonishing the view ! 
Their spirits clothed in human flesh anew ; 
More beauteous far, and dazzling, and bright, 
Than comets circled with their halo-light ; 
But far more sheen and splendid the array, 
Of Him who bent in fervency to pray : 
No sun at noon more gloriously bright, 
Than seemed His visage to the prophets' sight ! 
Then while around the gathered angels wait, 
And devils lurk in jealousy and hate, 
The Saviour bids the visitors from Heaven 
Unfold the message by Jehovah given ; 
Meanwhile awoke the wearied, sleeping three, 
To mark amazed, the glorious scenery ; 
The glory — such as pleading Moses saw,* 
When on the Mount he penned the sacred law, 
Immanuel's raiment glittered as the snow, 
Beneath the moon's or sun's meridian glow; 
While beaming fir around his reverend head, 
A wondrous halo dazzling radiance shed : 
No mortal eye had seen such brilliancy — 

» Exodua xxxiii: 18. " I beseech thee, Bhow me thy glory." . ■ 



VISIT OF MOSES AND ELIA6. 173 

No mortal hand could paint the radiancy, 
That clothed the trees, the plants, the flowers — 
The slopes, the vales and Tabor's lofty towers. 
When thus began the oldest of the sent, 
(As lowly at the Saviour's feet they bent,) 
" We wait the bidding of the Incar-nate, 
" We give reply to what thy lips shall state." 
" I asked," he said, " your heavenly mission here, 
44 For my disciples' sake, now standing near. 
" 'Twas fit they saw the sight they now behold, 
" That they may publish confident and bold, 
" My future messages to fallen men. 
" To know the dead are found alive again — 
" That God is not mere Sovereign of the dead ; 
" Shall raise the nations from their dusty bed. 
" To know in part by what they hear and see, 
" That Heaven is true, and who in Heaven shall 
" To learn I die for faithless Israel ; [be. 

" I came on earth that mission to fulfill, 
u That in Golgotha yield I up my life — 
" My work accomplish, end my mortal strife." 
When seer Elijah gave him grave reply, 
As o'er the land he cast reproving eye, 
" How deep, how high, how broad the guiltiness 



174 VISIT OF M06ES AND ELIAS. 

" Of fallen Judah, of our rebellious race ! 

" Yet if Jehovah can a way devise 

" By which Messiah suffers not, nor dies,. 

" Great were our joy. If it be possible, 

" Drink not the cup. O, let it be thy win.'* 

To whom replied the chosen Nazarene : 

" My wish and will I readily resign, 

" To HIM who reigns — has wisdom to devise. 

" I yield myself a bleeding sacrifice. 

" My Father's will, I purpose shall be done, 

" His will is mine — our purposes are one ; 

" The plan ordained I'm destined to fulfill, 

" And came on earth to do my Father's will. ,, 

Much more they spake, yet unrevealed to man, 

So deep, so wise, no living soul could span ; 

They stood before the Gallileans' gaze, 

All visible and audible to their amaze, 

Stood Heaven's specimen brought down to them, 

True denizens of New Jerusalem, 

When closed their conference, suddenly there 

came 
A voice from Heaven, the voice of the "I Am," 
Full heard, " This is my well beloved Son." 
Him hear, disciples, heed the Incarnate One I 



VISIT OF MOSES AND ELIAS. 175 

A brilliant cloud and ominous passed o'er — 
The seers were gone, were audible no more. 
— So astounding strange, so rapturous the scene, 
The attendants vaguely pondered what had been ; 
So high entranced was Peter's throbbing heart, 
He prayed the Lord he would not hence depart. 
To bid them build a dwelling for each seer, 
And one for Christ ; 'twas blessed to be here : 
To hold communion with the saints above, 
Was all he wished, could covet well, or love. 
Forth from the Mount earth's delegates descend, 
The seers, from Heaven, their further journey 
Agreed, they visit old Jerusalem, [wend; 

But nought there saw, but tended to its shame : 
They passed o'er Pisgah, Moses' lofty stand, 
Where erst he stood to view the promised land ; 
They cast on Carmel happy glance or two, 
Where brave Elijah Baal's prophet slew, 
Where long he plead for fertilizing ram, 
And showers refreshed the famish'd earth again. 
They sped to Horeb, where Elijah fled, 
And where desponding, timidly he hid ; 
Where Moses quaked, but resolutely stood, 
And graved on stone the precepts of a God ; 



176 VISIT OF MOSES AND ELIAS. 

They viewed the rock where living waters gush'd; 
They ranged the sea where Pharaoh's armies 

rushed — 
They swept o'er Egypt's Heaven-blighted coast, 
And marked its glory desolate and lost ; 
Thenhigh toward Heaven pursued their spangled 

way, 
And glad emerged to realms of perfect day ; 
Where joyous welcome countless hosts in bliss, 
The reverend seers; receive with ecstacies, 
The thrilling statement of their interview 
With God's own Son, and of the faithful few 
That heard and truly loved their glorious Lord, 
And gave adherence to the saving Word. 

And may not bard in consonance conclude, 
Apostles, seers, saints in beatitude, 
Have often come — may come quite often now, 
To this poor earth to learn what mortals do ? 



177 



is Vain and Favor is Deceitful. 

This is a youthful production slightly amended. 

Beauty's like the painted toy, 

In hands of silly girl or boy : 

Awhile the trifle pleases well, 

But when its gloss begins to shell, 

Aside the useless thing is thrown, 

K"o more sought, no more known. 

'Tis like the fragile fading flower, 

'Twill blush and wither in an hour. 

Like glass, with vivid colors fine, 

The brittle thing will flash and shine : 

But the slightest thump will crack it, 

And an accident may break it ; 

A simple malady may scar it : 

Corroding care is sure to mar it : 

Innumerous things conspire to rend it, 

So art can poorly cure or mend it ; 

But Virtue^ daughter of the skies, 

Far brighter glows and never dies ! 
Q 



178 



ODE TO MARCH. 

Written in 1855, or '6, when March was remarkably stormy. 

Oh, squally March, ill-boding name, 

By thee fierce storms keep marching on : 

N"o marvel we, weak souls, exclaim, 
" Oh, when will noisy March be gone ?" 

Rightly, grim Mars their god adoring, 
The warlike Romans named thee thus ; 

For like old Mars thou'rt ever roaring — 
Art getting up some noisy fuss. 

How'hast thou swept o'er hill and valley, 
Cast up therein thy snow redoubt, 

And sent around thy legions squally, 
As if to call our forces out. 

Ill fitted thou to be the leader, 

In Spring's delightful maiden train ; 

And she, I think, will well consider, 
Before she lets thee lead again. 



' 179 



OUR NATION'S GLORY. 

Wake ! land of the Puritan, aspire to thy glory, 
The sin-fettered nations deliverance implore ; 
Inspired by the lessons inscribed in thy story, 
Arise to their rescue and linger no more. 

Thou'rt called to encounter the giants of error, 
To sunder the chains that environ the mind — 
To banish idolatry, tyranny, terror ; 
To pour Heaven's light on the eye of the blind. 

Go forth with thy legions — thy sons and thy 
daughters, 

Whose souls have been lighted at Charity's flame ; 

Wage war on the Foe that bewilders and slaugh- 
ters, 

And conquer the world in Immanuel's name ! 

But wash from thy mantle foul inebriation, 
And rid thy escutcheon of the blood of the slave ; 
And waste not for conquest the strength of the 

nation, 
But pour out thy bounty to enlighten and save. 



180 



Then true shall the stripes thy broad banner 
adorning, 

Bespeak thee endued with bright Truth from 
above — 

Thy stripes shall betoken the streaks of thy morn- 
ing, 

Encircling the world with thy light and thy love. 

O, land of the pilgrims ! aspire to thy glory, 
'Tis thine to go forth in thy freedom and might ; 
To tell of achievements inscribed in thy story, 
And flood with effulgence the regions of night. 






181 



TO MRS. HARRIET B. STOWE. 

'Twas well to clothe in Fiction's pleasing dress, 
The wrongs Oppression shudders to confess ; 
To spread to human gaze the wide world o'er, 
The pictured canvass red with bondman's gore. 
Well pleased, we trace the well wrought drama 

through, 
And would the painting were not mainly true : 
Enough, fail* Artist, dip no more thy pen, 
In crimson flowing from the Negro's vein, [oil, 
Stripes for the Church may prove an healthful 
Yet laid too broad they may the lecture spoil — 
We move amendment to thy well-told tale, 
Say — Hosts in Israel have not bowed to Baal. 
"Not shall they bow. There is a power that sways 
The sceptre over all ; whose thoughts and ways 
Are not as ours : who wisely suffers now, 
And will ere long the proud oppressor bow. 
Or bowing not, will hear the cry of blood, 
The groaning prisoner loose, and with his rod 
The slayer slay ; and let the oppressed go free, 
And give to all the boon of liberty. 
Thus speaks the Word, and let the Church corn- 
It shall, in time, to meet the prophesy ; [ply, 
Tho' Church instructors warp the Christian creed, 
And, blind themselves, the blinded ones mislead. 

02 



182 

THE CHIVALRIC CHIEF 

Written at the time of Brook's outrage. 

Stung to the quick "by Freedom's speech, 
A conclave met resolved to impeach 
The scathing speaker, — keen to reprove, 
Those boasting patriots wanting love 
To country, and to their own kind, 
Venders of human flesh and mind. 
Amidst their clique a brave one spoke : 
" Have we no power to check or choke, 
" That prating, grating, lying fool, 
" Of Abolition's hateful school ? 
" My friends and comrades Democratic, 
" So true as I'm no stale fanatic, 
" And sure as I e'er whipped a nigger — 
u Though Sumner be a little bigger — 
" I'll wield an argument of poxcer : 
" I'll take him in unguarded hour — 
" Nor tap, but smite him to the floor, 
" Nor heed his cry — nor mind his roar. 






THE CHTVALKIC CHIEF. 183 

" 'Tis chivalric, you know, and all the South, 

" Will sound nry praise with open mouth , 

" Blow upon blow — (we know they need em,) 

" I'll give these babbling imps of Freedom ! 

" Freedom they talk — they ought to serve, 

" And we to rule, who well deserve 

" To hold the reins — we've held them long ; 

" And mind ye, friends, we'll twist them strong 

" On Whig and dough-faced ! They shall know, 

"What our best reasoners clearly show — 

" 'That part of Adam's race are born 

** 'To enslave the weaker and forlorn.' 

" And, mind ye, let them croak and cackle, 

" We'll bind them too with thong and shackle: 

" And who 've so good a right to rule, 

" As we, long taught in Freedom's school ? 

" We — bold asserters of otje, rights, 

" The foremost in our country's fights — 

" To life, and happiness, and liberty, 

" Have we not rights exclusively ? 

" And whites, who madly misbehave, 

" We'll take occasion to enslave ; 

" And let them mind their step and stroke, 

" Or they shall wear the nigger's yoke. 



184: THE CHIYALRIC CHIEF. 

" And now, as sure as I am Brooks, 
" Lend me, of gutta cane or crooks, 
" One, fit to split a nigger's head. 
" I'll smite him either dumb or dead. 
" He beat my Uncle in debate, 
" I'll beat his Abolition pate. 
" And if he prove not far too stout, 
" I'll crush the hated poison out." 
"Bravo !" the listening conclave cried, 
You'll find us waiting -at your side." 






185 



TEMPERANCE. 



TEMPEEAIsTCE SONG. 

Encouraged we meet, 
And are happy to greet, 
With voice and with hand, 
Our Temperance band. 
Our cause, it is glorious, 

And noble its end — 
We shall be victorious, 

For God is our friend. 

Enlisted we fight 
With a monster of might, 
Who strews o'er the plain 
His millions of slain — 
Who flings desolation, 
And dire lamentation, 
O'er every clime. 

We war not for blood, 

But we strive with the good, 



186 TEMPEEANCE. 

To rescue our race 

From vassalage base, 

To snatch the sore wounded, 

From shame and the grave,. 
From misery unbounded — 

The drunkard to save. 

Go, Temperance men, 
With the pledge of the pen, 
Deal blow upon blow 
On the odious foe ; 
And hold on entreating 

The pledge of the hand, 
Till the monster retreating,, 

Abandon our land. 






TEMPEEANCE JUBILEE SONG. 

Written formerly, but altered afterwards, to suit the passing of 
the Prohibitory Law by the Legislature of the State of New York. 

Hark ! the joyous shout exulting, 
We have fought and won the day ; 

Hence, to Temperance men resulting,. 
Hope to inspire us on the way, 
"With the Maine Law, with the Maine Law, 
Hope for Temperance' final sway. 



TEMPERANCE. 187 

For continued battle muster, 

Freemen of the Empire State ! 
Heed ye not the foeman's bluster, 
Meet them still with hope elate ; 
Still pursuing, still pursuing, 

Crush the object of your hate. 

Landlords, brewers, rum-distillers, 
Scatter now your tattered bands — 

Brandy bibbers, whisky swillers, 
Red with rage, with bloody hands ; 
ISTo more rally ! No more rally ! 
At King Alcohol's commands. 

Shall that bloated king of horrors, 
With his minions longer boast? 

Riot on the drunkard's sorrows, 
Fatten at the poor man's cost ? 
With your veto, with your veto, 

Shut the monster from your coast. 

Shall the reckless, greedy vender, 
Rogues and paupers multiply % 



188 TEMPERANCE. 

Rob our purse of lawful tender? 
Tax ns for their own supply ? 
"With the Maine Law, with the Maine Law, 
All their craft and rage defy. 

Let the trump and harp be sounded — 
Thankful praise employ the tongue ; 

Kindred of the slain and wounded, 
Dry your tears and swell the song. 
To the captive, to the captive. 

Shout deliverance loud and long. 



TEMPERANCE SAPPHIC. 

Offspring of the noble, 
Choicest of creation, 

Who with toil and trouble, 
Founded our nation ; 

Lo ! a foe ignoble, 
Makes sad invasion. 

Wide o'er land and water, 

Hosts on hosts obey her : 
Scarce one son or daughter, 



TEMPERANCE. 189 

Lured by the Betrayer, 
'Scapes the shameful slaughter, 
Of the vile Slayer. 

Red inebriation 

On her forehead blazes, 
" "Wine of fornication," 

Her adherents crazes ; 
Liquor fermentation 

Reddens their faces. 

Lo ! the liquor vender, 

For his " filthy lucre," 
Plays the shameful pander ; 

While to gain a voter, 
Demagogues defend her, 

Acting her suitor. 



■S3 



Wake ! O, noble nation, 
Vanquish the vile invader ; 

At each liquor station, 

Drain the pools that feed her 

Draw from his vocation 
The liquor trader. 



190 TEMPERANCE. 

WELCOME TO THE LECTURER, 

Mr. T\T. H. BTTRX.E1IGHI. 

Advocate of countless good, 
Welcomed by the brotherhood, 
Glad we greet your presence here, 
Eriends of Temperance give you cheer ; 
And let every vocal band, 
Sound thy welcome thro' the land. 

Fight we 'gainst a ruthless foe, 

Loath to let his victim go ; 

Maddened by the Demon's wiles. 

Few are rescued from his toils. 
Friends of virtue, hand in hand, 
Drive the evil from our land. 

Statesmen pander to his will ; 

Venders rob, ensnare and kill — 

Tell us, Watchman ! of the night ; 

Speak to us of coming light. [bland, 
When shall Temperance's sunlight 
Chase the darkness from the land ? 

Omen show of brighter day, 
When the Foe shall cease to slay — 






TEMPERANCE. 191 

When the inebriate shall be free, 

And the world have jubilee : 
Jubilee from land to land, 
Hailed by trump and vocal band. . • 

Go, then, Bard, with graphic lay, 

Paint the drunkard's dolorous way ; 

Venders scathe, and statesmen ply, 

Haste the day of victory ! 

Brother, speed with scourge in hand, 
Lash the Demon from our land ! 



THE OX TO HIS MASTER. 

A juvenile piece— inserted to please children and youth. 

The ox addressed his master thus — 
You make me work ; what can be worse 
Than make me drag that heavy plough, 
And tug so hard to pull it through ? 
To whom his master said : 'Tis true, 
You toil for me, and I for you. 
"We share the labor. Why complain, 
If you but have your full of grain ? 



192 



FOR THE ALBUM OF E. CAMP. 

Written for my Daughter's Album, at her request. 

'Mid thousand thoughts of my dear daughter, 
One there is outweighs them all ; 

Does she love the Lord that bought her ? 
Does she heed her Saviour's call ? 

What though Science high enroll her — 
What though Fashion deck her bright ; 

What though partial friends extol her, 
And to praise her take delight. 

These afford me little pleasure, 

While she shuns the way of truth ; 

Give me joy — surpassing measure, 
Daughter, give to God thy youth ! 

Early, then, should death assail thee, 
Hope should keep my spirit whole — 

Hope that angel bauds would hail thee, 
Welcome home thy ransomed soul. 



193 



AN ACROSTIC; 

OR, JERUSHA WEBSTER* AND CHARITY INTERWOVEN. 
"Chabitt suffereth long and is kind." — 1 Cor. xiii: 13. 

Joined in one line by holy hand, 
Essential each, three graces stand — 
Resplendent o'er the precious three, 
Unfailing stands sweet Charity. 
She claims the temper of the dove, 
Hopes and believes — but glows with love, ' 
Aspiring to a crown above. 

Without her all is vain. She long- 
Endures — unenvious — kind. Her tongue 
Boasts not, nor is she puffed. with pride ; 
She well behaves — is self-denied : 
To anger slow, nor jealous. She 
E'er hateth sin — loves verity ; 
Remains to all eternity. 

Possess this grace and Christ and heaven are thine, 
Christ is all love — is Charity divine. 



* The Author's niece. 
R2 



194 

The Ornament of a meek and quiet Spirit. 

Composed for the Album of Julia Boyd. 

Undecked with silver, pearl or gold, 

Nor shaped in Fashion's fickle fold ; 

There is a dress of comely cast, 

By woman worn in ages past, 

And worn by few in later time, 

But shall prevail in every clime. 

Whose pattern came from the bleeding hand 

Of One who dwells in a holier land : 

It mantles not our mortal part, 

'Tis the robe of a meek and quiet heart. 

Julia ! — this msfritle pleases me, 

I like to see it worn by thee. 



195 



A woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. 

Prov. xxxi: 30. 

Composed for the Album of Amanda Boyd. 

On Fashion's giddy daughters fair, 

The admiring world may gaze and stare ; 

But they gaze at a rainbow's waning ray ; 

At the blushing tints of the dying day — 

At the summer flowret that fades away. 

There is a gem of a fadeless hue 

In woman's heart, — in the hearts of few, 

And it flings abroad its cheering light, 

To rescue from woe the sons of night ; 

And it points to Heaven's mansion bright, 

'Tis praised by the noble, the wise and the good, 

By angels admired, in their blissful abode — 

'Tis the " fear of the Lord," but abounds in few, 

And may it, Amanda, abound in you. 



196 



EMBLEM OF HEAYEN. 

Fit emblem of the hosts above, 
The inmates of that family prove — 
Who, true to Heaven's wise law of rest, 
Keep well the day their Maker blest. 

With toil uncumbered — care imprest, 
Each leaves at dawn his couch of rest, 
To pour in privacy his prayer — 
With hope to meet his Saviour there. 

Xow grouped around the altar bright 
With using oft, how fair the sight — 
Of parents, children, all, intent 
On chapter read with wise com-ment. 

And now, soft swells the thankful song, 
Of mingled voices, old and young ; 
Anon, unanimous in prayer, 
Behold them, kneeling lowly there ! 






EMBLEM OF HEAVEN. 197 

Now, stilly through each morning hour, 

O'er sacred page their spirits pore ; 

Or books devotional peruse, 

And spurn the trash which worldlings use* 

Thence early to the House of God, 

They pass in meditative mood, 

Nor fail in soberness to hear, 

And praise, and pray with heart sincere. 

Nor grudge the interval to pass, 
With praying group or Bible class ; 
Nor join the breaker of the day, 
In lawless chat and vain display. 

And down to Sabbath's latest hour, 
They read, commune, and praise the more, 
Fair emblem of the saints' employ, 
In worlds of peaceful rest and joy. 



198 



COME TO THE CONCERT. 



To be sung every Sabbath afternoon, immediately preceding the 
Monthly Concert. Tune— Ps. 23, Choralist. 



Come forth to the concert — our concert of prayer, 
A greater than human is pledged to be there, 
A world-wide petition goes up to the King ; 
Thy prayer with thy offering, O fail not to bring* 

O'er peoples and kingdoms Messiah shall reign ; 
The power and dominion the saints shall obtain, 
Sweet peace shall descend from the regions above, 
And earth shall be clad in the mantle of love. 

The nations are waking and call for thy aid ; 
Fulfill for their rescue the vow thou hast made, 
And come to the concert and mingle thy prayer 
With the voice of assemblies now gathering there. 

The harvest is whitening, the reapers are few, 
To pray for more laborers is binding on you ; 
Come then to the concert, and plead for them there, 
And look for earth's ransom in answer to prayer. 






COME TO THE CONCERT. £99 

By the pangs of the Victim who groaned on the 

tree, 
By the love he declared for the world and for thee, 
By the woes of the millions enthralled by the foe, 
"With the thousands in concert, O fail not to go. 

The Saviour is waiting, the Spirit is nigh, 
To pour out his blessing in showers from on high ; 
In earth's renovation, O fail not to share, 
But join with the faithful in concert of prayer. 

So shalt thou unite in the final acclaim, 
In the Anthem of Moses, the song of the Lamb, 
The blood-ransomed heathen will fail to condemn, 
And thou shalt sit down in the Kingdom with them. 



200 



The Redemption of the Soul is Precious. 

There lives within this crumbling frame, 
With God's own image graven, 

A gem whose value none can name, 
'Tis told alone in Heaven. 

Though marred by man's malignant Foe, 

As taught in sacred story ; 
There is a power dispensed below, 

T' revive its pristine glory. 

Unthinking man — that gem, thy soul, 

That best of God's creation, 
Must be redeemed from sin's control — 

It needs regeneration. 

In purchase of that priceless gem, 
Can ought by man be given ? 

Provision for the soul's reclaim, 
Can only come from Heaven. 



201 



PRAISE GOD FOR A REVIVAL* 

Daughters of Zion ! Sons of God ! 
Rise with melodious songs and loud, 
Tell to the world how blest are they, 
Who share in a revival day. 

Ye new-born souls, your voices raise, 
Join to proclaim a Saviour's praise ; 
Tell how he woke his saints to pray, 
And gave you this revival day. 

Oh, it was cold and dark and drear, 
Till God the Comforter came near, 
Rent the thick cloud of gloom away, 
And gave this bright revival day. 

What enmity was felt within — 
What sharp distress, the fruit of sin, 
Ere rebel hearts would stoop t' obey, 
And welcome this revival day. 

Written in 1820. 

S 



202 PRAISE GOD FOE A REVIVAL. 

Ye lukewarm souls, your deadness mourn ; 
Ye dying sinners, wake and turn, 
And chant with us Jehovah's praise, 
Who grants these blest revival days. 

Oh, Father, Son and Holy Ghost, 
One God in whom we joy and boast, 
Take not the Heavenly shower away, 
Nor shorten this revival day. 



EXPOSTULATION. 

Sinner ! art thou halting still ? 
Shall that wicked stubborn will, 
Hold you in its mad control, 
Ruin your immortal soul ? 

Hark ! the Bride and Spirit call — 
Drop your idols, leave them all : 
Bow that heart, and now submit. 
Fallimr at the Saviour's feet. 



203 



THE DEITY OF CHRIST. 



" Before the mountains were settled, BEFORE THE HILLS- 
was I brought FORTa" — Prov. viii : 25. 



Before the lofty mountains 

From chaos had their birth, 
Or hills with gushing fountains, 

Adorned the rising earth — 
Ere morning, noon and even, 

Their daily round begun, 
There reigned in Holy Heaven, 

Jehovah's equal Son. 

Before entire creation 

Of countless worlds stood forth, 
Ere suus assumed their stations, 

Or Time received his birth — 
Before the unnumbered ages, 

If ages e'er begun, 
As told in sacred pages, 

Lived God's beloved Son. 



204 THE DEITY OF CHRIST. 

And when the Great Eternal, 

His azure sheet unfurled, 
And spread through space supernal, 

The boundless starry world ; 
'Twas then the vaulted heaven, 

With swelling anthems rung, 
" To Him all praise be given," 

The new-born angels sung. 

Then spake the Almighty Father — 

The Just, the "Wise, the Good, 
To Angel hosts that gather, 

Before the throne of God : 
Bow down, ye stars of heaven ! 

To my beloved Son — 
To Him be homage given, 

As to the Eternal One ! 

To Him in adoration, 

Bow low, ye sons of earth ! 
Who erst in Judah's nation, 

Received mysterious birth. 
Break forth, ye hoary mountains ! 

Ye hills and valleys sing — 
And Ocean streams and fountains, 

To Christ your tribute bring. 



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